


Pretty Boy

by Chuluchan



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Agaravaine's a douchebag, Arthur's first time with a man, Awkward First Times, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Merlin, Confusion, Daddy Issues, Fluff and Humor, Happy Ending, Lancelot the almighty saviour, Love Confessions, M/M, Merlin a rent boy, Merlin can dance, Merlin is totally hot, Multimillionaire Arthur, Rebellious Arthur, best friend Gwaine, business to love, lot of sex, romance's not dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:06:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 75,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21634123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chuluchan/pseuds/Chuluchan
Summary: Would you like to see Merlin in skinny jeans? Do you like Pretty Woman? - If your answer is 'yes' to either of these questions, then this fanfiction is for you.While I took the main plot and some of conversations from the famous romantic movie, do not expect the story to stick to it too closely ;) Have fun!
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Mithian/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 102
Kudos: 175





	1. Merlin

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, everyone! I will be posting this fic every Sunday, so you could enjoy it throughout December.
> 
> As for warnings. Well, unless you have issues with sexual workers and immobilizing/threats of violence that appears later on, you should be clear, I think.
> 
> I took some liberties, mostly with city of London (sorry to those who know it well) and I would have loved to put way more slang in but it is not within my language abilities at the moment. I hope you don't mind.
> 
> And at last but not least, thanks to my beta for helping out when I was in doubts. Thank you for your forbearing support!

“Are you going?” Merlin asked as he buckled slightly shabby belt around his waist. He saw new cracks in it and with a sigh he went looking for a black marker pen.  
  
“I already have something else.” Merlin heard his flatmate answer from another room. Merlin swore around the cap of the marker as he tried to camouflage the flaws of the belt. He couldn’t help it but feel abandoned. “Besides, you’ll make more if I am not around.” His friend told him, popping his head in the room and winking at Merlin.  
  
That might had been actually true, Merlin conceded grumpily. Gwaine had this ‘I am sexy and I know it’ aura about him which drew in overwhelming majority of people. Still, Merlin preferred to have him by his side. He never felt as vulnerable as when he was forced to walk the dark streets alone. _‘Gwaine should better make it count.’_ , Merlin thought to himself. “Don’t be so vain. Vanity is a one of seven deadly sins.” Merlin informed him, without looking up from his handiwork.  
  
“And so is lust. Don’t wait with a dinner for me.” Gwaine answered easily to Merlin’s teasing and disappeared again. Merlin checked himself in a mirror for one last time and left the flat.  
/  
It was a bit early and the sun had only just set. Air was still hot as the concrete emanated heat it accumulated from sun through the early autumn day. Merlin stood at his sidewalk spot only for a couple of minutes, when a bright red cabriolet sped down the street only to come to a sudden halt at the lights. The change was so forceful the tyres screeched against tarmac. The car was expensive and kept in a very good condition, as Merlin could say by a spotless polish. The driver was a man with longish haircut, the blond strands ruffled from the drive. His face was mostly hidden by sunglasses that did not go with the prim white-collar suit.  
  
_‘Out of your league.’_ Merlin thought pathetically as he assessed his chances with the stranger.  
  
_‘Don’t be such a girl, Merlin. You’ll never know for sure if you don’t try.’_ Merlin’s rebellious part took on a voice of his friend a second later. It was that part that brought him in troubles repeatedly, but it also kept him going when everything seemed lost. _‘Gwaine can do it and so can you. Poor, rich, ugly or stunningly beautiful, they all want it.’_ Merlin told himself firmly and he started towards the car with a confidence he didn’t feel.  
  
_‘But Gwaine’s sexy, meanwhile you’re just a gangly skin-and-bone.’_ , a sarcastic voice in his head reminded him.  
  
Merlin banished any inner discussions when he got closer to the car. This close up, he could tell that the driver was young and quite handsome. _‘Probably straight.’_ His down-to-earth self chimed in unhelpfully, despite Merlin’s efforts to silence it. Merlin put on his best seductive smile.  
  
“Hey, looking for a date?“ He asked suggestively, loud enough to get attention of the driver.  
  
This one was a big fish. With him Merlin could make enough to skip the rest of the night. A night full of grunts carried on a stale breath and filthy hands on him.  
  
The man behind the steering wheel of the cabriolet turned to him.  
  
“What?” He asked incredulously.  
  
“One hundred quids.“ Merlin offered on business.  
  
The man took off his sunglasses. He had beautiful blue eyes. “One hundred quids?” He asked dumbly.  
  
Merlin faltered. Did he go overboard with the price? “Seventy-five. Just for you.” He raised his eyebrow provocatively. Of course, it was still much more than his usual prize. The man certainly looked wealthy enough. Merlin needed the money and it would be shame if he didn’t try to get them in one go, but maybe it wasn’t his night. The longer he looked at the man, the more he was willing to cut the prize. If Merlin’s situation wasn’t what it was he would probably go with him for a drink and a nice smile. With things being as they were, he couldn’t afford to be generous. Nevertheless, even if he wouldn’t get extra money, just his usual payment, the guy was at least hot and Merlin would actually enjoy it for once.  
  
“Did you just offered me sex for seventy-five pounds?“ The man spluttered.  
  
“Are you in?” Merlin didn’t back down, he was not dissuaded that easily.  
  
“No. Thanks.” The man said like he couldn’t believe Merlin was asking him. At least he didn’t call him names.  
  
The lights changed to green and, with a loud honking, a car behind the cabriolet let them know they are impeding traffic, so they should finish their business as soon as possible and clear the road. Cursing under his breath the blond man returned his attention back to driving and put the car in gear before going few meters with awful sound of brake plates rubbing hard against the wheels. He forgot to release the hand brake. Merlin giggled. The guy pretended to be all haughty and yet he didn’t even know how to drive his own car. He didn’t look back as he belatedly released the hand brake and dashed off to the oncoming dawn.  
  
What a pity, Merlin thought. He reconciled with fact that tonight he won’t be _that_ lucky and tried his best to spot another potential customer instead. He was in a part of the city that was full of gay bars. There still were straight people walking or driving by, but the chances someone would be willing to pay for gay were still reasonably high.


	2. Arthur

“No, I haven’t looked at the e-mail yet.” Arthur answered patiently into his phone.  
  
“I’ll be expecting your answer within ten minutes, then.”  
  
“I can’t look at it now, I am not home yet.” He wanted to close his eyes and push out the tension and irritation that started to build in him while he was talking to his fiancé, but he couldn’t afford it since he was currently driving. Although saying that he was stuck in a traffic jam would probably be more accurate description of his situation. Some van in front of him was releasing acrid fumes and Arthur cursed Morgana and her stupid cabriolet for an umpteenth time. Mithian’s voice in the phone brought his attention back to the call. She criticized him for coming home late again.  
  
“You are the CEO. You should delegate some of your work to your assistant and come home before dinner as other decent humans do. And then you could devote at least one evening per week to your fiancé.” - As if he didn’t wish he could just stretch on his comforter an hour ago.  
  
“I know. But I promised to pick Morgana’s car and-“ Arthur tried to explain, but Mithian interrupted him and he expected a tirade about how she should be more important than Morgana to him.  
  
“I really don’t understand it. You seem to have time for anybody. Well, except me.” That wasn’t quite true. Arthur was a busy man even before they got together. The fact they planned to get married didn’t made him any less in demand in his field of business. And if he ever dedicated his time to something or someone else than his job and social ties that were necessary to nurture for that matter, it was only fair it was his family that got a scarce piece of his time. Not that he put much effort in providing it to them. So basically, he was all hers when he did have a spare time – which he usually did not, he had to admit.  
  
“She’s not anybody. She’s my sister.” Arthur reminded impassively. Ever since he proposed, their relationship went downhill. Maybe it was a mistake. Arthur suppressed a sigh and drove along a bit before stopping few meters onwards. Morgana made him pick her car – a flashy red cabriolet – from auto service while she was away, enjoying her vacation at the French Riviera. Arthur was angry with himself for letting her coax him into being her errand boy. It was always hard to defy her and he barely ever won their disputes.  
  
“You know, I had enough. I don’t want to wait for you all my life. I’m leaving.” Mithian told him irately.  
  
“Fair enough. I won’t hold you back.” Arthur didn’t think too hard before he said it. He was too tired to make any grand gesture to save their relationship. He suspected he might regret it later. Now, it only saddened him, but he felt a relief, too.  
  
“You’re such an egoist. If someone stays with you she’d be a saint.” Mithian always said what she really thought. That was actually her plus, even though her words stung him now.  
  
“Maybe you’re right.” Arthur admitted. He heard a deep sigh on the other side of the connection.  
  
“Then good luck looking for her.” She wished and hung up.  
  
Arthur put down the phone and saw that another two meters of road before him had cleared. _‘This leads nowhere.’_ Arthur’s patience suddenly wore off. Instead of waiting for the traffic to move by its snail pace, he turned a blinker on and left the main route through the nearest side street. There had to be a way to bypass the traffic plug.  
  
He checked the GPS navigation system as it calculated new route based on his new location. The streets were old and narrow, accommodating mostly one-way roads. Arthur didn’t know this part of the city, so he had to rely on the navigation and his sense of directions. Once the route was clear, marked by bold blue line on a background of a city map, Arthur, who was tired of the slow pace, stepped on it in hopes of getting off the damned car soon.  
  
Arthur just thought of a new innovative way to insult his sister, when the lights ahead turned red and he barely managed to stomp on breaks in time. The car stopped virtually on a spot and Arthur thanked God there wasn’t another car behind him, else it would already smash the rear half of Morgana’s fancy sports car and turn it into Smart Fortwo. Arthur once again wondered why she needed a race car in perpetually overstuffed streets of London. Arthur looked at a street ahead, when someone addressed him from the side of his car.  
  
“Hey, looking for a date?“ The voice was male and Arthur turned to its owner.  
  
“What?” The question left his mouth sooner than he could think about it.  
  
Arthur looked at the young lanky man with dark brown hair. He wore skinny jeans and black sleeveless turtleneck top. The guy smiled a strange smile and said: “One hundred quids.“  
  
To see him better, Arthur took off the sunglasses he found in a glove box when he picked the car up. Wind stinging one’s eyes while driving was yet another reason why Morgana’s choice of a car was nothing but foolish.  
  
“One hundred quids?” He repeated after the man, not sure what the stranger meant.  
  
The man hesitated for a moment before amending. “Seventy-five. Just for you.” And then it hit him. The guy was hitting on him! He was offering a transaction in the world’s oldest profession. Arthur would think it ridiculous if he wasn’t so surprised.  
  
“Did you just offered me sex for seventy-five pounds?“ Arthur was flabbergasted. If he wasn’t so indignant from implication he might be desperate enough to be willing to pay for sex, he would be amazed by the casual directness with which he was approached. He was used to chosen phrases and all kinds of formalities before broaching any business matter.  
  
“Are you in?” Arthur had to give it to the guy that he had courage to ask after such reaction. Were the roles reversed, Arthur wouldn’t dare. He took in the defiant look in vividly blue eyes that were set far apart. That, combined with the fair skin, high chiselled cheekbones and delicate lips, actually lent him unique kind of beauty. Then Arthur realized what he just thought and became embarrassed for even considering the offer, although unintentionally. The guy might have been handsome, but he was still a rent boy.  
  
“No. Thanks.” Arthur still couldn’t believe that he, even just for a moment, played with the thought of what it would be like to accept the proposal.  
  
Then a car horn blared from behind him and Arthur almost got a heart-seizure. He focused on getting the car moving again and in his haste he forgot about a hand brake. He winced at the noise the car made. Losing his dignity as a driver was just a minor mishap in a sum of today’s events, though.  
  
The image of the lean daredevil with sparkling eyes didn’t last long in forefront of his mind as Arthur devoted his attention to driving and traffic situation once again. He didn’t get far though, when he found out that one of the roads he was supposed to take was recently under construction and thus has been closed. He was forced to turn in the opposite direction and follow the one-way roads blindly, hoping for a chance to escape this labyrinth. The navigation started to calculate again and Arthur gladly followed its actualized directions. Well, he _did_ before he figured out the navigation system, unaware of any obstacles, led him the precisely same way. Arthur pulled over on a curb. He yanked his phone from its holder angrily to deal with the navigation problem. He had a good mind to throw the useless gadget away, when a not so unfamiliar voice spoke to him from behind.  
  
“Have you changed your mind?”  
  
“What?” Arthur asked as he turned to find _that_ guy again. He wasn’t even at the same spot – Arthur checked and, indeed, he wasn’t near the traffic lights where they ran into each other for the first time. Did the man think that he returned and tracked him down? “Oh. I didn’t stopped here because of _you_. There are construction works at Brewer Street. I need to check the map, because this fantastic piece of modern age technology” he said, his clipped words dripping sarcasm, “wouldn’t show me something as simple as how to drive around a blocked-up street.” Arthur indicated he was talking about his phone by lifting it up with a flash of bitter smile.  
  
“I can give you directions. I know this part of London pretty well.” The guy offered and Arthur perked up. “For five pounds.” Merlin added cheerfully then.  
  
“That’s ridiculous.” Arthur replied with incredulous huff and shake of his head.  
  
“Price just went up to ten.” The rent boy retorted smoothly.  
  
“You can’t charge me for directions!” Arthur stated categorically as he got shirty.  
  
“I can do anything I want. I’m not the one who’s lost.” His eyebrows rising up, the guy pursed his lips and shrugged.  
  
“Fine.” Arthur yielded. “Oh, God.” He sighed while he dug for his wallet. “Got a change for twenty?”  
  
The guy grabbed the banknote and lowered his body onto a leather seat next to Arthur.  
  
“For a score, I’ll show you personally. Where do you need to get?”


	3. Merlin

Merlin tried his best to appeal to bypassing men but had no luck. It was slowly getting dark; the night had just begun. The later it got, the better the chance was that there would be invigorated men looking for either a little bit of excitement or satisfaction of their darker needs.  
  
Merlin looked around and flinched when he spotted a couple of policemen walking down the street in his direction. That was the last thing Merlin needed – to explain himself at a police station, if they got an inkling of what he was there for, hanging around a corner of a street. He had to move. A veil of irrational dread that they could prove his shady business hung above his head as he forced his legs to cooperate.  
  
Merlin followed the sidewalk in the direction of the passing cars, wondering where he should go next, which wasn’t as easy decision as it might had seem to be, when the striking red cabriolet with its sleek curves pulled over just few paces in front of him. The drive was blond. Merlin’s heart jumped in his chest. It felt like a destiny.  
  
However, a moment later, he learned that rather than a destiny, it was all Merlin’s wishful thinking. It was indeed the same car and the same driver from earlier, but he certainly did not pull over because of Merlin. The blond GQ let him know in quite prattish way. Then, he lamented about being lost, so Merlin offered his help – for a tip, of course. Merlin learned in his first days on a street that nothing came for free. And yet the man looked at him as if Merlin’s demands were preposterous and he was mortally offended. What an arse.  
  
“That’s ridiculous.” The man huffed.  
  
“Price just went up to ten.” Merlin enjoyed the outrage seizing the man’s features.  
  
“You can’t charge me for directions!” The man exclaimed.  
  
“I can do anything I want. I’m not the one who’s lost.” Merlin enjoyed answering and barely managed to hide a taunting smirk, when he shrugged indifferently.  
  
“Fine. Oh, God.” The self-important prick sighed and finally pulled out his wallet. “Got a change for twenty?”  
  
Merlin didn’t hesitate. He took the banknote and flopped beside the driver. “For a score, I’ll show you personally. Where do you need to get?”  
  
Merlin felt appeased that he made at least some money. And even though it wasn’t much, if was almost for free. Plus, he got to ride in a luxurious sports car that was like a royalty in a world of cars. Merlin gave directions and then his eyes wandered to a profile of the man beside him. _‘God, he’s gorgeous.’_ He let out a silent sigh in appreciation of a well-defined manly jaw and a perfect nose. Even his lips were full of filthy promises. A jolt of excitement rippled through Merlin’s chest. Prick or not, that man was a catch. Then he remembered he was there only to show the way and a wave of disappointment cooled his head down.  
  
“Now turn left.” Merlin ordered when they got to another crossroad. Silence stretched on after that and Merlin felt he ought to fill it.  
  
“So, 007.” He said with admiration as he nestled in the exceedingly comfortable mocha-coloured seat.  
  
The other man scoffed in confusion.  
  
“Aston Martin DBS cabrio.” Merlin continued. “That’s a really hot car.”  
  
The man’s face smoothed out. “It’s not mine.” He replied curtly.  
  
“Rented?” Merlin inquired.  
  
“No.”  
  
“ _Stolen?! _" Merlin’s voice was half alarmed and half wondering.  
  
“No! Of course not!” The man was scandalized. He even turned his head in order to look at Merlin. When his eyes were back on a road and his breathing slowed down somehow, he spoke again. “It’s my sister’s. I am just picking it up for her.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
After another pause filled with odd sounds of engine and uneven drive, Merlin couldn’t resist giving a piece of advice.  
  
“You should shift gears faster. This car is like a purebred amongst heavy drafts. It accelerates from zero to one hundred in 4.3 seconds.” Merlin let himself to be carried away.  
  
The man behind the steering wheel made an impressed face. “You know about cars.” He stated with mild bewilderment.  
  
“My father used to race. And my friend Will is totally nuts into James Bond.” Merlin admitted with a small smile.  
  
It seemed that the man took Merlin’s words to heart, because the next time he stepped on a gas he gunned it like his rear was catching on fire.  
  
“Oi! Easy there!” Merlin shouted at the driver. “We don’t want to run some old lady over.”  
  
The blond clenched his jaw and tried to moderate his driving style. “The car’s a little temperamental.”  
  
“It’s Aston Martin.” Merlin pointed out wistfully.  
  
“Have you ever driven one?” The man questioned him.  
v “No.” Merlin admitted. And suddenly the car was pulling over.  
  
“So now’s your chance.” The blond driver said as he released his seat belt and vacated a driver’s seat.  
  
Merlin stared at him dumbfounded. “Are you serious?!”  
  
“Yes. I am not going to listen to your clever-clog prattle all the way to my sister’s place.” Merlin was suddenly deluged with exultation. He smiled broadly. He hurried up and switched the seats with the guy.__


	4. Arthur

Taking the rent boy into the car was like sailing in uncharted waters. The navigation part went well, but then he mentioned Bond and Arthur didn’t know what he was going on about. It turned out that the guy was clearly enamoured with Morgana’s ostentatious car and Arthur, repelled by the idea of being viewed as its owner, spilled that it wasn’t his car. The rent boy reacted by asking if it was rented and Arthur was surprised there was a way to offend him even more than by surmising the flashy car was his. He denied an assumption that he rented flashy cars - presumably in order to impress someone - and was surprised once again, when the guy asked him if it was stolen.  
  
“No! Of course not!” He exclaimed with indignation.  
  
_‘He has to be joking.’_ \- To prove his theory Arthur turned his head only to find a tall lanky guy by his side looking back at him with a straight, if a little amused, face. Obviously, he was not.  
  
_‘Are there really people like me driving around in expensive stolen cars?’_ Arthur questioned himself. The rent boy would probably know better than him. “It’s my sister’s. I am just picking it up for her.” Arthur admitted.  
  
“Oh.”  
  
_‘Oh?!’_ Maybe this wasn’t about people with nicked cars as much as about this guy having too wild imagination.  
  
Arthur thought they would spend the rest of the way in silence, when the guy started to complain about Arthur’s driving style. It wasn’t perfect, Arthur knew, because he wasn’t used to a car like Morgana’s, but that didn’t meant he needed listen to smart-assed advice from a person who probably didn’t even own a car. Yet it turned out he knew the car in detail, while Arthur barely recognized its brand.  
  
“You know about cars.” Arthur remarked.  
  
“My father used to race. And my friend Will is totally nuts into James Bond.” The rent boy said with a fondness in his voice.  
  
Arthur tried to apply the faster gear change, but he underestimated an engagement of a gas pedal and the car shot forward like a bullet.  
  
“Oi! Easy there!” Arthur’s fellow-passenger shouted at him. “We don’t want to run some old lady over.”  
  
_‘Oh, great. As if I didn’t know that!’_ Arthur fumed while trying to not repeat the same mistake. “The car’s a little temperamental.” He replied acidly.  
  
“It’s Aston Martin.” The guy pointed out. Well, even Arthur knew as much about cars as to not expect anything else from that brand. _‘Damn it.’_ He has never drove a car as this one before and he was ready to admit he was terrible at it. He hated driving it through the overcrowded streets even without a smart-ass pointing out his deficiency in the skill. And then an idea hit him.  
  
“Have you ever driven one?” Arthur was curious.  
  
“No.” The rent boy admitted shyly.  
  
Arthur stopped by a curb.  
  
“So now’s your chance.” He said as he released his seat belt and vacated a driver’s seat.  
  
“Are you serious?!” The guy looked at him in astonishment.  
  
“Yes. I am not going to listen to your clever-clog prattle all the way to my sister’s place.” Arthur confirmed. When his words sank in, the boy’s face brightened up with a blinding smile that made his eyes crinkle and sparkle with joy. He radiated happiness Arthur haven’t seen in years. Something flipped in Arthur’s chest at the sight and he got butterflies in his stomach. Then he wised up and hid his own smile that threatened to make him look like a love-struck fool. If he broke up with his fiancé just to fall for _a rent boy_ from all the people, Morgana would laugh her head off. With a sense of apprehension he switched seats with suddenly very enthusiastic boy.  
  
Arthur watched him to adjust his seat and outside and rear-view mirrors and felt mildly disconcerted by the fact that the rent boy had longer legs than him. Arthur was by no means short.  
  
“Hold on, I’ll show you what this car is made for.”  
  
True to his words, the guy handled the car like he was born to do so. He set it into a fluid motion, navigating it through streets like if it took no effort at all. Although there was no space to show the power of the engine, he used the fast acceleration every now and then for overtaking, slipping between the cars like an eel. His driving style wasn’t aggressive like Morgana’s even though it was by no means tame. While Arthur’s blood pressure rose at occasional tight squeeze, he found himself relaxing eventually and even enjoying the ride.  
  
“What’s your name?” Arthur asked as they came close to their destination.  
  
“What you want it to be?” The boy turned his head and gave him a flirtatious smile. Arthur just stared him down, his expression saying what he thought about making up names.  
  
The boy sighed and turned forward again.  
  
“Merlin. It’s Merlin.”  
  
Arthur was pleasantly surprised. There was a brief pause, before Arthur spoke again.  
  
“You said you take one hundred pounds or was it seventy-five…?”  
  
“One hundred. Seventy-five was a special offer. One-time only.” If Merlin had been looking his way, Arthur was sure he would wink at him, judging by the playful sound of his voice.  
  
“So seventy-five pounds for night?”  
  
“An hour.”  
  
Arthur huffed.  
  
“What? Are you interested after all?”  
  
“No. It’s just- You make one hundred pounds an hour and you fix your belt with a duct tape?” Arthur remarked sarcastically.  
  
Merlin’s expression closed up. Arthur looked up and saw they were already on a street where Morgana lived.  
  
“OK, Merlin. Thank you for a ride. You can stop here. I’ll park the car myself.” The whole ‘letting a rent boy to drive my car because he’s a better driver’ was already awkward enough as it was and Arthur wanted to maintain at least some amount of dignity. Merlin stiffened a bit, but he pulled over to a curb in front of Morgana’s estate.  
  
This part of London was very peaceful, unlike the street where Arthur picked Merlin up. There was still some traffic and people walked up and down the street, but there were no clubs, only offices and peaceful homes of affluent people.  
  
“So, we’re here.” Merlin noted when he pulled the hand brake, the engine still purring softly under the hood.  
  
“We are.” Arthur confirmed.  
  
Merlin hesitated only for a second longer and then he got off the car. Arthur went to take the driver’s seat again.  
  
“You going get back all right?” Arthur asked when he sunk into the seat again, lifting his face to Merlin who still lingered nearby.  
  
“Just fine. I’m gonna grab a cab with my twenty quids.” He smiled.  
  
“Thank you for a ride.” It wasn’t like Arthur to thank people, but the words simply fell off his lips.  
  
Merlin seemed embarrassed a little, his eyes finding the tarmac beneath his feet. Then he looked back to Arthur.  
  
“It was my pleasure.” Merlin smiled warmly. “See you.” He said as a parting.  
  
“Goodbye.” Arthur gave him a nod before turning back to a dashboard. He heard Merlin’s receding steps as the rent boy walked away.  
  
Arthur focused on readjusting the seat into more comfortable position for his differently built body. Then he fumbled for his phone, where he wrote down access code to Morgana’s estate. When he found it, he tossed the phone onto passenger seat for easy access and fastened his seat belt. Lastly, he looked up and adjusted a rear-view mirror. As he angled it to a correct position, he caught a sight of Merlin in the reflection. Arthur’s eyes lingered on it for a while, watching the graceful lines of Merlin’s body as he leant against a lamppost. Just when he was about to finally adjust the mirror, Merlin pushed off and, to Arthur’s surprise, he unbuckled his belt, pulling it out of his trousers loops. Arthur got intrigued and wanted to know what Merlin would do next. He watched him as the boy examined his belt, especially what had to be the small part where it was chaffed more than elsewhere and where he tried to improve its state by a thin strip of a black tape. He had to come to a conclusion that Arthur was right, because the next moment he tore off the ornate clasp and unceremoniously dropped the rest of the belt in a nearby bin. He shoved the clasp into one of his tight jeans pockets and walked few steps over to a bus stop, sitting down on a bench there. Merlin was too far for Arthur to decipher expression in his face, but he bent forward, propping his elbows on his knees. He hung his head down tiredly. Arthur’s throat clenched at the sight. No, it wasn’t any of his concern, he told himself. He merely asked him for directions and then paid more than enough to feel bad about bringing him out here. And he only did him service by pointing out the terrible state of his belt.  
  
Arthur set the rear-view mirror and engaged the first gear. His fingers wrapped around the handle of the hand brake and released it. And then, before his hand left the hand brake, he pulled it back again. He turned the engine off and unfastened his seat belt.


	5. Merlin

The ride was glorious. Merlin regretted he didn’t get a chance to see what this beast-like car could do on an empty highway. He never intended to be a race driver, but it seemed he had it in his blood. When they finally pulled over, Merlin felt a pang of disappointment, the blonde’s comment quickly sobering him into reality. There was nothing to wait for. He got his twenty quids for showing the way and that was it. In spite of Merlin’s multiple attempts, the man made it clear he was not interested in a business. Merlin swallowed his regrets and left with a good grace, saying he will use the money he earned to pay a cab, when the man inquired about his way back. However, he didn’t intend to follow own words. There was a bus stop nearby and public transport would be much cheaper. He leant against a lamppost near to the bus stop, thinking on events of that night and what was awaiting him once he was back to his ‘spot’. He remembered how the blonde criticized his belt. He wished the earth would open up and swallow him, when the man commented how Merlin made one hundred quids an hour and still fixed his belt with a duct tape. Merlin took it off and looked at it properly, filtering out personal attachment. It really did look shabby. He would find another in a second-hand and have the buckle replaced by the old one. Decided, he ripped the buckle off. It took a lot of strength to free it and Merlin was pained to do this to his beloved accessory. When he was done, he let the scraped worn down, now also thorn, leather fall down into a bin and pocketed the buckle in shape of a dragon Celtic knot. The lamp post wasn’t too comfortable to lean on and there was still a long night ahead of him, so he slid down onto a metal bench under the bus stop shelter roof.  
  
To say he was surprised, when someone cleared his throat and that someone, as Merlin found out when he looked up, was the blonde standing before him, was an understatement. He didn’t understand it. Did the man lose something? Did he think Merlin took it? Was it something with the car?  
  
“No cabs?” The gorgeous blonde man asked a bit awkwardly.  
  
A small talk? Merlin shrugged.  
  
“Bus’s also fine.”  
  
“I was thinking… Did you really say seventy-five pounds an hour?”  
  
“Hm.” Merlin agreed, not letting his hopes up yet.  
  
“Hm.” The man repeated. There was a moment when he was thinking the offer through. “Well, if you don’t have any prior engagements, I’d be very pleased if you would accompany me into the flat.”  
  
It took a moment for the words to sink in. Merlin tried his best to hide his excitement while he felt like bursting out with joy.  
  
“You got it.”  
  
He fell in step with the blonde and the silence lasted all of ten seconds before Merlin asked.  
  
“What is your name?”  
  
“Arthur.” Arthur supplied.  
  
“Arthur. That’s my favourite name in the whole world!” Merlin might have exaggerated a bit, but a little bit of flattery killed nobody.  
  
“No!” Arthur made a mock-impressed grimace and naturally didn’t look too convinced.  
  
“Yes! I tell you what, this is a fate, Arthur.” Merlin told him with certainty. “That’s what this is.”  
  
And this time Arthur looked like he actually believed it, even if it included some self-irony.  
  
They returned to the car and Arthur drove them into private garage under the condo. His ride wasn’t as smooth as Merlin’s but he managed to park rather easily. When they walked up to the elevator, Arthur slid down his jacket and offered it to Merlin.  
“Would you put this on?”  
  
“Why?” Merlin stood frowning.  
  
“Well, people who live here aren’t used to paid visitors, if you know what I mean.” His outfit wasn’t too flashy, but neither did it seem exactly decent, considering the neighbourhood.  
  
“Ah.” Merlin pulled the suit jacket on without further discussion. The lining cloth was silky where it touched his bare arms, the expensive piece of clothing comfortably heavy on his shoulders. The sleeves were half an inch shorter and it was too wide in shoulders, but the jacket brought along a feeling of safety. Merlin’s eyes got caught on the glorious body next to him and Merlin’s fantasy started to drift, picturing things they could do during the ride in the lift.  
  
When they entered the lift, Merlin was instantly grateful for the jacket, when he saw a tell-tale lens of the security camera. All naughty thoughts about making out in elevator evaporated like ice on a hot pan. He might have been desperate enough to make money by selling his body at that time, but he certainly didn’t want what he considered the darker times of his life to stick to him after he overcame it. Rule number one: no footage.  
  
Fortunately, Arthur didn’t seem to mind the lack of activity. It didn’t took long and the door opened with a soft ‘ding’. Arthur walked out and Merlin followed at his heels. The sight that opened to him took his breath away. The corridor was huge and in was tiled with marble. Instead of flickering fluorescent lamps Merlin was used to, there were design wall lamps exuding clear warm light. Everything screamed money, big style.  
  
“Holy shit.” Merlin muttered under his breath.  
  
They stopped at large wood-massive door and Arthur punched in the access code. When they walked in, the place was immersed in dark shades of blue. Arthur closed the door and flipped the switch and the lights flooded the apartment, revealing a spacious space of a maisonette. The first floor included a kitchen combined with dining and living room. The staircase in the back climbed skywards to what Merlin guessed had to be a bedroom.  
  
“Impressed?” Arthur roused him from a reverie.  
  
“Are you joking? I come to the places like this all the time.” Merlin brushed it off, getting into his ‘I am top goods’ role again. To break the awkward moment he walked over to the windows that spanned over both floors of the maisonette.  
  
“Wow, great view.”  
  
“My sister bought this maisonette because of it.”  
  
“You say this is your sister’s place. So do we do it in her bed?” Merlin inquired, his tone suggesting it could be some kind of Arthur’s kink.  
  
“No. Oh, God. Merlin, this place has a guest room.” Arthur seemed aghast by the idea.  
  
“Fine. Shall we take a look at it, then?” Merlin knew what he was paid for and it certainly was not for loitering. He came close to Arthur, entered his personal space with learnt nonchalance. He let his fingers trail the hem of Arthur’s tie, while he tried his best to seduce him with a look into his eyes. For some reason it did not work.  
  
“You know, you could pay me. That’s one way to maybe break the ice.” He changed the tactic. Some people felt hesitation, especially when they didn’t have experience with paid sex. Paying for the proposed service helped them to take it easy, to relax. It made the things they would do later justified.  
  
Something flicked in Arthur’s eyes. Then he scoffed a little with an apology.  
  
“Oh, of course. I’m sorry.” He looked a bit embarrassed and he took out his wallet. He counted the cash and handed it out. Merlin folded the banknotes and stuffed them into one of his pockets.  
  
Then Merlin went and made a show of taking off borrowed suit jacket. Cool air brushed over skin of his naked arms, leaving little goose bumps behind. Merlin ignored it and moved to untie Arthur’s brand-name tie. When it slid down, caressing Arthur’s neck through the collar, Merlin started to unbutton his shirt from the top down. He didn’t get further than to a second button, though, when Arthur stopped him. Arthur’s firm hands caught Merlin’s wrists and gently pulled them away.  
  
“All right. We can get straight to it, if you prefer…” Merlin said quickly and he reached for Arthur’s fly. Arthur’s hands restrained him again.  
  
“No. I…” Arthur bit his bottom lip and looked sideways, then took a breath. “Why don’t we just talk for a little bit?” He met Merlin’s eyes again.  
  
_‘So he’s_ that _kind. Well.’_ Merlin could deal with that.  
  
“Talk. Yeah… uh… okay.” Merlin started to roam, giving Arthur a space. “So… Do you go for men openly or is it just your little dirty secret?”  
  
“Neither, I suppose.” Merlin turned to look at Arthur with his eyebrows high. He wanted to know what he meant, but he rather kept back than being pushy.  
  
“Do you have a wife? Girlfriend?” He propped on the backrest of one of comfortably looking ivory white armchairs.  
  
“Both.” Wow. Merlin wouldn’t tell it into Arthur. Then again, he was probably awfully rich and he got the looks, too.  
  
“Where are they? Shopping together?” Merlin joked, watching Arthur to pull out a bottle of champagne from a fridge.  
  
“My ex-wife, I don’t really know where or with whom she is anymore.” Arthur took out two flute glasses and set them on a kitchen counter. “My girlfriend, who had actually become my fiancé, is at Canary Wharf, moving out of my apartment even as we speak.” Arthur unwrapped a top of the bottle and fiddled with a wire cap securing cork in its place. He opened it with a silent pop and poured the sparkling wine into the flutes. He gave one to Merlin.  
  
“Why don’t you sit on the sofa?” Merlin obeyed and Arthur followed him into living room area with his own glass and a bottle he placed in a bucket of cold water.  
  
The sofa was covered with the softest kind of leather and dipped comfortably under Merlin’s weight. He had to admit he wouldn’t mind to bonk right on it. Arthur stayed away, though. With the glass held loosely in one hand, he stood behind one of the armchairs, elbows propped on the backrest. He watched with interest as Merlin drank the champagne.  
  
“Are you hungry? I’m sure you are. What kind of cuisine do you fancy?”  
  
Was he serious? This wasn’t a romantic evening and Merlin wasn’t a real date. He paid for an hour with Merlin, he paid for sex. Maybe Merlin should remind Arthur how this works.  
  
“Listen, I… I appreciate this whole seduction scene you’ve got going, but you don’t have to do this. I’m a sure thing, all right? So, I am on an hourly rate. Could we just move it along?”  
  
“Somehow I’m sensing that this time problem is a major issue with you. Why don’t we just get through that right now?”  
  
_'Finally.'_ “Great, let’s get started. No filming, no cuffing or otherwise restraining unless you want to be the one tied up, safe sex only.” Merlin pulled out few packets of condoms from his back pocket. “Do you want to top or bottom? I do both.”  
  
“How much for the entire night?” Arthur asked instead.  
  
_'Entire night?!' _Merlin heart leaped to his throat. When he could speak again, he said: “To stay here? You couldn’t afford it.” He challenged.  
  
“Try me.” Arthur challenged him back.  
  
“Three hundred pounds.” Merlin gambled.  
  
“Here.” Arthur pulled out the banknotes. “Now we can loosen up.”  
  
This was absolutely fantastic, but it was also something Merlin wasn’t used to. It made him nervous.  
  
“Are you sure you want me to stay for entire night? I mean, I could just give you a gob job and be on my way.”  
  
“No, I’d just like a company tonight.”  
  
“Why? Is it your birthday or something?” Merlin should know if that’s the case.  
  
“No.”  
  
“So what you want me to do?”  
  
“I don’t know.” Arthur answered with same amount of confusion as Merlin had asked him with. “Have a dinner with me?” He suggested after he gave it a thought.  
  
“That sounds good.” Merlin couldn’t help the grin that pulled at his lips.__


	6. Arthur

Arthur felt positively insane when he approached Merlin and eventually asked him to accompany him to Morgana’s flat. It has been so long since he did something unexpected, something crazy. And he never did something like this. He thought that planning everything was what being mature meant. In all those years he almost forgot how scary and exhilarating it felt to do something by how he _felt_ , without properly thinking it through and reasoning it first.  
  
Taking Merlin with him felt like something forbidden. It was exciting for either Merlin being a male prostitute and for spontaneity of the action. At the same time, it allowed Arthur to forget the wasted relationship with Mithian and how disappointed Arthur’s father would have been when they called the wedding off. All there was now was Merlin in his provocative clothes that clung too close to his slender frame.  
  
If Arthur had said he didn’t found Merlin attractive, he would be lying. It wasn’t a first time he noticed a man in not purely platonic way. There were a couple of men he did not only appreciate for their appearance, but found personally appealing, too. He just never thought to act upon it. Still, Merlin was different. It wasn’t just his physical side, he was _interesting_. Arthur never met anyone like him before.  
  
Only when they parked in the garage and were about to walk through the building to Morgana’s maisonette, did Arthur notice his not-so-much-plan might have some holes in it. If someone saw him openly bringing a rent boy to the flat and his sister learnt about it, she wouldn’t let him to live it down. By Merlin’s clothes, it was hard to miss he wasn’t from the neighbourhood. To reduce conspicuousness of Merlin’s look, Arthur shed his suit jacket and asked Merlin to put it on.  
  
“Why?” Merlin was baffled by the request.  
  
“Well, people who live here aren’t used to paid visitors, if you know what I mean.” Arthur explained patiently.  
  
“Ah.” Merlin pulled the jacket on. Even though it didn’t fit him too well, Arthur felt appeased. The way up to the maisonette was uneventful. When they entered a corridor, Arthur heard Merlin mutter ‘holy shit’ to himself.  
  
Arthur glanced sideways and saw Merlin’s dumbfounded look. He smiled to himself and led the way up to Morgana’s door. When they were inside, Arthur couldn’t help it but to ask.  
  
“Impressed?”  
  
“Are you joking? I come to the places like this all the time.” Arthur couldn’t decide if it was meant like a sarcastic joke or not. He watched Merlin to walk over to the high windows that overlooked a part of London. “Wow, great view.”  
  
“My sister bought this maisonette because of it.” Arthur replied, remembering Morgana’s bragging when she showed him the view for the first time.  
  
“You say this is your sister’s place. So do we do it in her bed?” Merlin asked impishly, his voice full of well-natured scandal. Arthur imagined it and paled.  
  
“No. Oh, God. Merlin, this place has a guest room.” Arthur’s reaction didn’t throw Merlin off.  
  
“Fine. Shall we take a look at it, then?” Merlin suggested. He walked up to Arthur, leaving no more than few inches between their chests. His fingers trailed over Arthur’s tie, his eyes unreadable even up close. As much as Arthur liked the game, to him Merlin was a complete stranger and Arthur still wasn’t sure if it was a sex he really wanted from him.  
  
“You know, you could pay me. That’s one way to maybe break the ice.” Merlin said suddenly.  
  
How could he forget? This was all business for Merlin. He felt underwhelmed.  
  
“Oh, of course. I’m sorry.” Arthur scoffed. He found his wallet and gave Merlin his money. The rent boy folded the banknotes and stuffed them into one of his pockets without ado.  
  
Merlin did a little strip show with the suit jacket Arthur lent him. Arthur noticed how pale his skin was. His bare arms looked very much as those of a woman, no hair, just expanse of delicate milky white stretched over nicely sculpted yet thin arms. Except, the wrists and long fingers were clearly male. They loosened the knot of Arthur’s tie. Merlin slowly slid it down, then he started to unbutton Arthur’s shirt. First button, then second, his long male fingers were brushing against Arthur’s skin, slowly getting him naked. This was wrong, forced. Arthur’s hands found Merlin’s and pulled them away.  
  
“All right. We can get straight to it, if you prefer…” Merlin didn’t waste any time and reached for Arthur’s fly. Arthur grabbed his hands again.  
  
“No. I…” How to put this? He knew that technically he paid Merlin to do this, but he didn’t want to feel like they did it only because of Arthur’s money (even though that was hypocritical, because in fact, they did). He wasn’t looking for a release, he wanted the mood and the sensuality of private contact. He wanted for both of them to enjoy this, however fussy it might have seemed. Arthur bit his bottom lip and looked sideways, then took a breath. “Why don’t we just talk for a little bit?” He met Merlin’s eyes again.  
  
“Talk. Yeah… uh… okay.” Merlin backed down. He left Arthur and walked from place to place while looking around the room. “So… Do you go for men openly or is it just your little dirty secret?” He asked Arthur with straightforwardness Arthur wasn’t used to.  
  
“Neither, I suppose.” He answered honestly. Merlin turned to look at him with a questioning look but didn’t say anything.  
  
“Do you have a wife? Girlfriend?” He asked instead and sat atop of a backrest of an armchair.  
  
“Both.” It was worth Merlin’s surprised look and it wasn’t a lie.  
  
“Where are they? Shopping together?” Arthur smiled and pulled out a bottle of champagne from a fridge while thinking of an answer.  
  
“My ex-wife, I don’t really know where or with whom she is anymore.” He took out two flute glasses and set them on a kitchen counter. “My girlfriend, who had actually become my fiancé, is at Canary Wharf, moving out of my apartment even as we speak.” Arthur opened the bottle and poured the sparkling wine into the flutes. He gave one to Merlin.  
  
“Why don’t you sit on the sofa?” Merlin obeyed and Arthur followed him, placing the bottle in a bucket of cold water as he went.  
  
Still standing, Arthur propped his elbows on the backrest of one of the armchairs. He was amused when he saw how Merlin downed the champagne of which one bottle costed more than Merlin’s charge.  
  
“Are you hungry? I’m sure you are. What kind of cuisine do you fancy?”  
  
Arthur felt generous tonight. However, Merlin didn’t take his invitation too well.  
  
“Listen, I… I appreciate this whole seduction scene you’ve got going, but you don’t have to do this. I’m a sure thing, all right? So, I am on an hourly rate. Could we just move it along?” There he went again.  
  
“Somehow I’m sensing that this time problem is a major issue with you. Why don’t we just get through that right now?” Arthur decided.  
  
“Great, let’s get started. No filming, no cuffing or otherwise restraining unless you want to be the one tied up, safe sex only.” Merlin rambled on, pulling out few packets of condoms from his back pocket. “Do you want to top or bottom? I do both.”  
  
“How much for the entire night?” Arthur asked instead. He didn’t want to rush things. He already invested his money in Merlin, so he’d rather enjoy the company instead of refusing and sending him away.  
  
Merlin couldn’t hide the shock even though he tried. When he recovered, he asked.  
  
“To stay here?” Arthur nodded. “You couldn’t afford it.” Merlin dismissed it.  
  
“Try me.” Arthur challenged him.  
  
“Three hundred pounds.” Merlin was obviously trying his luck. Arthur didn’t mind it, though.  
  
“Here.” Arthur pulled out the banknotes without hesitation. “Now we can loosen up.”  
  
Merlin looked happy and ill at the same time.  
  
“Are you sure you want me to stay for entire night? I mean, I could just give you a gob job and be on my way.” Merlin asked doubtfully. Arthur told him he would just like a company tonight. And Merlin asked if it was Arthur’s birthday, which Arthur readily denied.  
  
“So what you want me to do?” Merlin asked him at last.  
  
“I don’t know.” Arthur really didn’t know what he wanted from Merlin. Then he remembered his question before he got interrupted. “Have a dinner with me?” He looked up hopefully and was rewarded by a slowly unfurling, but radiant grin.  
  
“That sounds good.” Merlin replied.  
  
Arthur called to a nearby Italian restaurant and ordered pasta, a bottle of white wine that fitted the meal and a dessert.  
  
“Could you set the table? I need to check my e-mails.” He asked Merlin and sat down in one of the armchairs with a compact laptop he brought along in a briefcase.  
  
“Sure. To make myself useful is the least I can do.” Merlin replied energetically. “The plates would be…?”  
  
“Over there.” Arthur pointed to a cabinet across from the kitchen counter.  
  
“Ah. Yep.” Merlin headed off in indicated direction.  
  
Arthur focused his attention on his mail. Work, there was always a work to do. He was a CEO which brought along a lot of responsibility. He couldn’t simply ditch it even if he wanted to. He intended to go through his e-mails once he was home but seeing he would not probably go there at all tonight it was sensible to deal with it before he was too tired or drunk. His look got caught on Mithian’s e-mail. The spurt of guilt and remorse was brief, soon it was replaced by weary acceptance. Arthur deleted it.  
  
He looked up when the doorbell rang and realized he had to be immersed in his work for longer than he thought, leaving Merlin abandoned after he laid the table. He had to be waiting silently for Arthur to finish his work for quite some time now.  
  
Merlin was at the door first, he looked at the screen of the intercom. He pressed the button for audio connection.  
  
“Delivery from Luigi’s for Mr. Pendragon.” The delivery guy announced.  
  
“Yeah, that’s here. Come up. It’s fourth floor, flat number… 12.” He looked at Arthur, who walked up to him in the meantime, for confirmation and pressed a door release button.  
  
“Wait here, please. I’ll be right back.” Arthur told Merlin. He walked over to the kitchen, took the plates from the table and put them in an oven, turning it on. Then he returned to the door.  
  
“What’s that for?” Merlin eyed the oven suspiciously.  
  
“To warm the plates. This way the meal won’t turn cold when it’s put on the plate.”  
  
“Ah.” Merlin nodded as if some particularly professional but totally superfluous advice was just given to him. It was awkward. Fortunately, the situation was dismissed by the delivery of wonderfully smelling pasta.  
  
The dinner was quite relaxing. It was heart-warming to watch Merlin’s appetite. There weren’t any candles or flowers in vase and for once Arthur did not feel like something was expected from him. The conversation flowed freely and even though Arthur had been afraid whether they’ll be able to find a common topic, it came easily and turned out rather interesting. During the dinner Arthur learned that Merlin was born in a small village somewhere in Northern Ireland, that he was a single child with a single mother and that when he decided to ease her of a burden of supporting him and make a life of his own in London, it didn’t end up the way he expected.  
  
“When you don’t have education or connections, it’s hard to find a job that pays decently.” Merlin admitted. “But I could do two or three poorly paid jobs to cover my expenses just fine.” He let out a humourless huff of laughter. “All it took was for one of my miser of employers to not pay me my wage and I didn’t have enough to pay a rent.” Arthur saw the pain in his eyes. “The landlord wouldn’t wait, so I needed to borrow some money. As you might have already guessed, it went on and on, one thing followed the other…” Merlin then shrugged. “Turns out I have more talents than I have expected, though.” He indicated his body. “This way it’s much easier. I didn’t like to hand out leaflets anyway. Or haul around heavy boxes, for that matter.” He tried to make it sound like a good thing that he became a rent boy, but Arthur could see he wasn’t too happy with the situation.  
  
After the dinner, they settled on the sofa. Arthur let Merlin to go through Morgana’s DVDs and pick one while he worked some more on his laptop. For some unfathomable reason there was Robin Hood: Men in Thighs among Morgana’s otherwise refined selection of movies. Of course, Merlin found it and put it in the player. Rather than sitting next to Arthur and peeking into his laptop whenever he turned to him, Merlin settled on the floor, happily munching on an Italian chocolate cake Arthur ordered along with the main course.  
  
The movie was an awfully clichéd spoof. Arthur didn’t paid much attention to it, only raised his eyes from his work every now and then to look at Merlin – giggling at the silly jokes all the while. Arthur supposed it was only natural for people to act the way Merlin did. Arthur just never came into contact with anyone like him. Maybe it was a matter of wealth and status that stole naïve joys of life.  
  
“This is absolutely delicious.” Merlin praised the cake, licking the tips of his fingers.  
  
“If you want you can have mine, too.” Arthur offered.  
  
“You’re not gonna eat it?” Merlin looked at him as if Arthur has just committed a blasphemy.  
  
“No, I am not. I ordered two only so you could have more if you like it.” Merlin felt silent for a minute or two.  
  
“Well, if you really don’t want it…” Arthur smiled and passed him the plate with dark brown piece of cake (and for Merlin apparently superfluous dessert fork and a paper napkin) that lay untouched on the end table next to him.  
  
Arthur watched as Merlin vigorously stuffed himself with the second piece of chocolate caloric bomb. He turned his laptop off and closed it quietly. His eyes flitted to the screen and then returned to Merlin. He looked so happy, carefree, beautiful. There was just a scene with a shadow play, the tilted sword mimicking a motion of Robin’s over-enthusiastic John Thomas. Merlin chuckled and turned his head to look at Arthur only to found him looking back at him. The mood shifted.  
  
Merlin looked back at the movie for a second, chuckling at another joke, and then turned to Arthur fully. He licked the chocolate crumbs from his fingers and wiped them dry in the napkin before standing up and walking over to Arthur. He stopped in front of him, their legs touching. Merlin looked down at Arthur for a moment, then took a bottom hem of his turtleneck top and pulled it up his chest and over his head in one fluid motion. It revealed a pale nicely shaped chest with a light dusting of dark hair between the nipples and running up his sternum. As Arthur already noticed before, his armpits were shaven clean. Merlin dropped the top on a floor and begun to work on his pants. He opened them in a matter of seconds and then took a step back and slid the jeans down his legs. His underwear was not either thongs or plain boxers. It was a hybrid between the two. Two wide elastic bands ran over each of Merlin’s hips, accentuating their shape in rather sinful way. Arthur’s eyes roamed over Merlin’s body. It definitely was not feminine. Although, it wasn’t decidedly masculine, either. His figure was slender and fine, not like what Arthur connected with idea of male body with – sturdy and hirsute, which turned him off. No, Merlin was very, very attractive while standing like this in his nearly naked glory.  
  
Then Merlin stretched to reach for the pillow at the other side of the sofa. He snatched it and dropped it between Arthur’s ankles. Then he grabbed the remote control and put the TV on mute before tossing it aside. He knelt down and bent forward. Arthur felt pinpricks of excitement run up his spine. The boy was so close and so _naked_. Merlin was looking straight to his eyes.  
  
“What do you want?” He asked quietly.  
  
“What do you do?” Arthur countered.  
  
“Everything.” Then, he added. “But I don’t kiss on the mouth.”  
  
“That’s fine with me.”  
  
Merlin dived into a crook of Arthur’s neck. First came an intoxicating feeling of a hot breath on his skin and then soft lips touched it tentatively. Merlin didn’t hesitate to take it further. He skilfully unbuttoned Arthur’s shirt while he was placing open-mouthed kisses on Arthur’s neck that ignited Arthur’s nerve endings and sent jolts of pleasure through his body. Merlin tilted back, grabbed Arthur under his knees and pulled him down a bit, so Arthur was more lying than sitting now. Merlin’s hands continued lower. He unbuttoned Arthur’s pants and pulled the fly zipper down.  
  
Merlin was good. For a while Arthur was watching him work, Merlin’s striking blue eyes meeting his, but then he simply closed them. Arthur finally let go of everything else and relaxed, only enjoying the sexual act.  
  
When it was over, Merlin waited for Arthur to open his eyes.  
  
“Let’s go upstairs.” Arthur decided.  
  
Merlin picked his clothes from the floor meanwhile Arthur collected his laptop. He plugged it in a wall to charge it and went over to Merlin who was waiting for him at the base of the stairwell. When Arthur joined him, Merlin turned and started to climb the stairs. Arthur’s eyes slid to two perfectly shaped and completely exposed half-spheres. At that moment, Arthur discovered that the elastic bands that wrapped Merlin’s hips continued as follows – the upper ones connected at his waist and the lower ones sneaked around his thighs. The rest was blank. Arthur’s jaw dropped.  
  
He must have gasped or done some kind of a choked noise, because Merlin stopped and turned to him.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Your… your bum.” Arthur stammered, perplexed.  
  
“Stark naked?” Merlin grinned. “I am wearing jocks. You didn’t notice?” The amusement was rich in his voice. He continued up the stairs. Arthur followed, trying not to stare at Merlin’s backside the whole way up. After few more steps he asked, curious.  
“Is it any indication of your preference?”  
  
This time Merlin only turned his head and smiled as he climbed the stairs. Arthur took it as ‘yes’.  


  


Upstairs, Arthur showed Merlin around first. The tour was short: two doors at the right side led to Morgana’s personal bedroom and main bathroom. The remaining one on the left belonged to a guestroom that had a small adjoining bathroom of its own.  
  
They went into the guestroom and were welcomed by a generously sized bed and tasteful decor.  
  
“Nice.” Merlin sat down at the bed and caressed its silk sheets appreciatively.  
  
“Hm.” Arthur agreed absent-mindedly, having his look for Merlin only.  
  
“So?” Merlin leant backwards, supporting his weight on hands buried in the mattress behind his back. He slightly parted his legs in an invitation, a suggestion. For a moment, Arthur just stared.  
  
“I need to take a shower.” He decided suddenly and fled.  
  
His heartbeat was fast and so was his breathing. Just a second ago he was torn between calling it a night and jumping Merlin there and then. The more he thought of it, the more it became clear which option he would choose. And then he panicked and shut himself in the guest bathroom.  
  
Merlin was a guy and Arthur never really considered having it off with a man before. He just got a head from one and now he was about to jump into bed with him, eager to explore the unknown. It was a little overwhelming. He turned the shower on, so it wouldn’t appear suspicious that he only locked himself in and didn’t used the bathroom at all. He was sticky anyway, might as well use the opportunity and wash.  
  
The familiarity of having a shower soothed Arthur’s nerves. He realized there was no reason for him to be overly self-aware. Merlin was a professional. He didn’t expect anything from Arthur – well, anything except for money. Even if Arthur was about to embarrass himself, it wouldn’t have any influence on his reputation as a lover, because tomorrow it will be forgotten, gone along with Merlin.  
  
When he finally returned to the room, Merlin was fast asleep. For a brief moment, Arthur considered waking him up but quickly decided against it. He knew that Merlin wouldn’t hold it against him, probably he would even apologize himself for falling asleep, but it felt unnecessary. Besides, he didn’t took Merlin in explicitly for sex.  
  
Arthur didn’t drink much and the effects of the alcohol were disappearing quickly. The shower sobered him up and the cooler air of the guestroom after he left it woke him just enough for him to not feel like sleeping right then.  
  
It wasn’t like Arthur didn’t have things to do. There were plenty of data he should re-check, many details he should think through. If he wanted to succeed and take over Bayard’s company, then he could not afford a single miss-step. Arthur wasn’t much of a morning person, he would rather work till late night than wake up at an ungodly hour to finish his workload. And workload he had. This merge was too important for him to afford to overlook or underestimate anything.  
  
In the end, Arthur decided to leave Merlin to his sleep and went downstairs to make as much from the time he had as he could manage. Few hours later he woke up with a crick in his neck as he fell asleep on the sofa while working. He just bent his head back to ease the stiff trapezius muscles and closed his eyes for a moment and then woke up to dark screen of the laptop that was slowly slipping down his thighs. With a huge yawn, he turned the laptop off and put it aside. After that, he stood up and stretched his achy back and walked up the stairs. He was too tired and his body too beaten from the sleep in sitting position to give up the bed to Merlin entirely.  
  
When Arthur entered the guestroom again, he found out that although Merlin shifted in his sleep, he still stayed pretty much at the same spot – the edge of the bed that was more than wide enough for both of them to fit comfortably without a need to snuggle up. Arthur divested of his shirt and pants and then he dropped dead on the other half of the bed. He fell asleep instantly.  
  
/  
  
Arthur woke up and looked around in dismay before he remembered where he was and what happened - everything from the awful traffic jam, break up with his fiancé and one insolent strider, who demanded to be paid for giving directions, to his shining pale backside and his come-hither look. Arthur’s heart sped up, when he realized that the man lay next to him in a bed at the moment. And then he remembered what didn’t happen, too. He turned to Merlin, who still lingered in the land of dreams. He looked peaceful in his sleep. It was the ear sticking out from his hair that drew Arthur’s attention, though. It was hidden beneath Merlin’s dark hair yesterday, but now it unabashedly protruded. Arthur smiled to himself, finding it endearing. He couldn’t help it but to trace the shell of Merlin’s ear with a feather-like touch of his fingertip. Merlin blinked his eyes open. His vision cleared and sleepy confusion was replaced by wry lopsided smile.  
  
“You’ve got me. Big ears.” He confessed self-mockingly.  
  
Arthur’s brows furrowed a little at his tone.  
  
“I think they’re lovely,” Arthur said with a fondness and rose to place a soft kiss at Merlin’s ridiculously adorable ear with more calmness than he felt. And, honest to God, Merlin blushed.  
  
“Is there some place you need to be?” Arthur asked him, because Merlin was very sweet and very naked and Arthur felt remorse that he didn’t have courage to pursue the way things were taking last night. Instead of seeing it as an expression of interest that it actually was, though, Merlin had to interpret Arthur’s thoughtful expression as a one of polite indication for him to leave.  
  
“No, but I’ll just put my clothes on and go.” He assured Arthur quickly and sat up.  
  
“I have a better plan for you.” Arthur took a chance and pulled him back down, lightly, until Merlin yielded and fell back. He went for a kiss, but then he remembered Merlin’s rule: no kissing on mouth, and changed the course of action. He placed a kiss just under Merlin’s ear. Before he dared to take it any further, he pulled back to check if Merlin consents. The slightly parted lips, puffing out barely audible shallow breaths, and dazed eyes told him all he needed to know.  
  
Arthur repeated Merlin’s motions from the previous night. He lavished his pale neck, tasting the faint saltiness of dried sweat and took in breaths of Merlin’s own scent, suffused with pheromones, all traces of cheap cologne that might have been there last night evaporated long ago. He pulled Merlin closer and Merlin readily reciprocated, running his hands over Arthur’s shoulders, back, buttocks. This was crazy. And Arthur wanted it more than anything in a very long time.  
  
/  
  
“Mind if I take a shower before I leave?” Merlin asked.  
  
“Not at all. Everything in that bathroom’s there for guests, so suit yourself.” Arthur replied just as his cell phone rang. He took it out and looked at the screen. “I have to take this.” He apologized, looking up at Merlin again.  
  
“Okay, I’ll just…” Merlin gestured towards the bathroom and Arthur left.  
  
“Uncle.” Arthur greeted his uncle who was at the same time Arthur’s lawyer.  
  
“Arthur, I’ve got information that Bayard will come to London early. He’s going to be at the fundraiser of Save The Coast tonight.”  
  
“Oh, that’s great. I’ll go there and meet with him.”  
  
“I wouldn’t do that. He might not be happy to see you there.”  
  
“Of course, he is going to fight. It’s to be expected. He’s run his company under his name for so long, it must be difficult to give it up.”  
  
“Yet you want to see him face to face at a fundraiser. He’s supposed to stay till Sunday, there will be a plenty of occasions to meet him later.”  
  
“Yes, I do. And I don’t want to put it off. Tell Finance to get in touch with Marketing to come up with a reasonable donation for the fundraiser. And make sure we’ll get an invitation.” Arthur wanted to check his watch for time, but realized he left it on a bedside table.  
  
“Arthur…” His uncle sighed. “This really isn’t a good idea you go to see him like this. Definitely not alone. The word goes that he thinks that you don’t care for people, that you don’t even have friends because you simply don’t care. You are not going to persuade him by showing up at a regional fundraiser, even if we make a donation.” Arthur entered the guestroom again. Merlin was gone.  
  
“I understand.” Arthur picked up his watch and wedging his phone between his shoulder and ear, he put the watch on his wrist and closed its clasp.  
  
“Take Mithian. She’s so sweet, she would charm anyone.”  
  
“…About that… That might be a problem. Mithian and I are no longer together.” He straightened, taking the phone in his hand again.  
  
“What?! When did that happen?” His uncle asked with alarm. “Doesn’t matter. You have to ask her to come with you or this will go to hell.” Arthur sighed inwardly.  
  
“I won’t. My issues are not her concern anymore.”  
  
“Look, I just think it’d be better if you… if you went with a date.” His uncle deflated a bit.  
  
Arthur heard a strange humming sound and followed it through the open door of the bathroom. It came out of a shower stall where, behind the steamed glass, Merlin washed his hair. He apparently haven’t heard Arthur over the sound of the shower and his own croaking, because he continued to shimmy, pretending the bottle of a shampoo was a microphone.  
  
“…Whenever you’re around I always seem to smile. And people ask me how, well, you’re the reason why I’m dancing in the mirror and singing in the shower. Hmm-hm-hmm-hm-hmm-mmm…”  
  
“Arthur, did you hear me? What is that?” Arthur’s uncle interrupted.  
  
“A TV.”  
  
“Since when do you watch a TV?”  
  
The melody was cheerful and catchy and, in Arthur’s opinion, it absolutely fitted Merlin. A warm smile spread over Arthur’s face.  
  
“I don’t.”  
  
“Anyway, I know a lot of nice girls.” Arthur’s uncle continued.  
  
“No, you don’t. Besides, I don’t want to take a girl. Bayard’ll just think she’s with me for my looks and money.”  
  
“Then you can take someone from the company.”  
  
“He’d find out. Don’t worry. I already have someone.”  
  
He lingered a moment longer, but then decided to leave, since the shirt started to stick to his skin in the steam that filled the bathroom.  
  
/  
  
Arthur waited for Merlin outside, in the guestroom. When Merlin finally appeared, he had one of guest bathrobes loosely hanging on him and was using a towel to dry his hair. When he noticed Arthur standing there, he covered himself by wrapping the bathrobe around his body and secured it in place with the belt that hang from its loops.  
  
“Are you waiting for me? I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.” Merlin tousled his hair with the towel some more and sat at the edge of a bed.  
  
“But I heard you.” Arthur couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at his lips and eventually turned to full-on grin.  
  
“Oh, crap.” Merlin winced, with a wry smile of his own.  
  
“Merlin, I have a business proposition for you.” Arthur began. Merlin dropped the towel and looked at him curiously.  
  
“What do you want?”  
  
“I’d like you to spend whole week with me.” A flattered, almost giddy smile curved Merlin’s lips.  
  
“Whole week?” He asked.  
  
“Yes. Until Sunday. I’d like to hire you as my escort, to be at my beck and call.”  
  
Merlin face lit up, but he bit his lip and he turned his look away for a second, before meeting Arthur’s eyes again with more sober expression.  
  
“Look, I’d love to be your …escort or whatever, but you’re a rich, good-looking guy. So. Why me? You could get a million people for free.”  
  
“I want a professional.” Arthur lied. Or maybe he didn’t lie, but he wasn’t completely honest, either. “I don’t want any romantic hassles this week. Or any other kind of hassles, for that matter. People tend to be complicated.”  
  
“And I am not.” Merlin deduced. Then he changed the topic. “If we’re talking twenty-four hours a day, it’s gonna cost you.”  
  
“Ah, of course. You’re all about money.” Arthur sighed. “All right, let’s settle this. How much?”  
  
“Let me count. Six full nights, days too… Four thousand.” Merlin shot.  
  
“Six nights at three hundred is eighteen hundred.” Arthur did the math for him.  
  
“You want days, too.” Merlin pointed out.  
  
“Two thousand.” Arthur bargained.  
  
“Three thousand.” Merlin countered. That was a nice outcome, a fair deal, because Merlin was definitely worth it.  
  
“Deal.”  
  
“Holy shit!” Merlin flopped at his back and stared at a ceiling with a dopey grin.  
  
“Merlin. Is that yes?” Merlin propped himself up on his elbows in order to see Arthur.  
  
“Yes. Yes!” He laughed and flopped down again.  
  
/  
  
While Merlin changed, Arthur went downstairs. He searched the kitchen for something that would work as a breakfast. There wasn’t much else than alcohol that Morgana kept in her kitchen while she left the country for two weeks, though. Arthur found almost hard toast bread and decided to start from there. He found a pan and put it on a stove. He never really cooked anything but figured out it couldn’t be that difficult. He found olive oil in the drawer system next to oven and poured some of it onto the pan. He turned a burner on and placed two slices of the bread in the pan. That’s how they did it in the TV, right?


	7. Merlin

Arthur called somewhere and ordered a meal. Then he asked Merlin if he could set the table. Arthur himself sat down in one of the armchairs with a compact laptop.  
  
“Sure. To make myself useful is the least I can do.” Merlin replied, bringing up some enthusiasm. “The plates would be…?”  
  
“Over there.” Arthur pointed to a cabinet across from the kitchen counter.  
  
“Ah. Yep.”  
  
Merlin set the table and then hung around the kitchen while Arthur focused fully on his e-mails. It was a bit boring, but Merlin didn’t dare to disturb him. He looked around the kitchen, looked out of the window for a while and then settled on watching Arthur – his serious, thoughtful expression while he worked. When the doorbell rang, Merlin hopped up and went to answer it.  
  
Merlin was at the door first, he looked at the screen of the intercom and pressed the button for audio connection.  
  
“Delivery from Luigi’s for Mr. Pendragon.” The guy at the screen said.  
  
“Yeah, that’s here. Come up. It’s fourth floor, flat number… 12.” He looked at Arthur who walked up to him in the meantime, and confirming his words, he pressed a door release button.  
  
“Wait here, please. I’ll be right back.” Arthur told him and left for the kitchen. Merlin observed how he took plates from the table, put them in an oven and turned it on.  
  
_‘There’s no food yet. What the hell?’_  
  
“What’s that for?” Merlin inquired when Arthur returned.  
  
“To warm the plates. This way the meal won’t turn cold when it’s put on the plate.”  
  
“Ah.” Merlin nodded, but it still boggled his mind. He never thought people might do something like heating their plates. It could be nice, but it was totally posh. Then, the delivery of wonderfully smelling pasta came and all thoughts concerning desirability of preheated tableware were quickly abandoned.  
  
While they ate, Arthur told him about his ex-wife, Sophia. He was nineteen when he fell in love with her.  
  
“I was so head over heels for her that I married her when we were twenty.” Arthur shook his head as if he couldn’t believe it was actually him who did something like that. Still, Merlin could see nostalgia in his eyes. “My father was livid.” Arthur’s face contorted with remembered pain. “He told me not to and I still did it. Following my heart.” Arthur sighed.  
  
The marriage didn’t last long. It turned out that Sophia had her own selfish reasons for being with Arthur and once the original haze of love dispersed, the relationship did not work so well. After a divorce, Arthur had occasional dates but never let it turn into something serious. A year after a college, his father introduced him to a young woman. Her name was Mithian. Despite Arthur’s initial scepticism, she was not only attractive, but also clever and fun. They were quite good match and after some time Arthur asked her to marry him as was expected of him (and reminded to him repeatedly). It all went more or less well until she found out that Arthur’s too busy for the relationship to be satisfying. Arthur knew it was true, but at the same time he couldn’t give her what she needed, so he let her go.  
  
Merlin repaid it by telling Arthur story about how he got to be a rent boy. It wasn’t exactly something he would share with his customers or anybody, really, but Arthur wasn’t from the sort of people Merlin usually met.  
  
After the dinner, they moved to the living room part of the maisonette. Arthur sat down with his laptop again and let Merlin to pick the movie for the evening. Merlin went through rather impressive collection of original DVDs in Blu-ray quality. Most of the movies were classics. When Merlin spoke about classic movies to his childhood friend Will, he meant Star Wars or Alien, but here he found all kinds of timeless movies like Casablanca, Breakfast at Tiffany’s or Psycho. Merlin tried to choose one, but it was difficult to decide – there were so many and all of them worth seeing. As he examined the titles, he suddenly came across something that was not fitting in at all. Merlin noticed there were few more films of that kind, but this one he loved. It was Robin Hood: Men in Thighs and it seemed that Arthur’s sister had a thing for Mel Brooks’ movies, too. Merlin was sure it wouldn’t be a movie of Arthur’s choice. On the other hand, it might do him good. Arthur was so wound up. Maybe if he changed his ways for once and laughed a bit at silly spoof, he might release some of the steam and Merlin would finally stop feeling like an intruder. Merlin put it in the player before grabbing a plate of some brown cake Arthur ordered along with the pasta. When he saw Arthur was still working, even though the opening sequence of the movie was already playing on the TV screen, he was a little disappointed. Nevertheless, if he got paid three hundred quids a night for watching one of his favourite movies and eating a cake, then he had no problem with it. He considered sitting next to Arthur, but for both the sofa’s luxury upholstery’s sake (since he was planning to eat while watching) and him enjoying the movie rather than repeatedly checking on Arthur, Merlin chose to nestle on a floor instead, a thick carpet making it not overly uncomfortable endeavour.  
  
When Merlin took a bite of the cake, his eyes got wide with the heavenly chocolate flavour. How could he miss out on something like this? Arthur added some small forks to eat the cake with, but it was impractical. To use it Merlin had to look down, away from the screen where he usually missed some precious moment and therefore he abandoned the little fork very soon and started using a hand instead. Arthur continued to work throughout the movie and Merlin soon forgot about him. He giggled or outright laughed at the silly jokes, having good time watching.  
  
“This is absolutely delicious.” Merlin commented in a subdued moment, when he finished his cake and licked the crumbs off of his fingers.  
  
“If you want you can have mine, too.” Arthur told him. Merlin was half-surprized Arthur even listened to him. And wait. Did he just say he haven’t eaten his piece yet?  
  
“You’re not gonna eat it?” Merlin looked at him with a notion that there must be something wrong with Arthur, because if he could, Merlin would eat this chocolate cake until he dropped dead.  
  
“No, I am not.” Arthur replied indeed. “I ordered two only so you could have more if you like it.” Merlin was surprised into silence. Then he considered Arthur’s offer. It would be a despicable waste, if the cake was left to crust and then ended up in a trash bin.  
  
“Well, if you really don’t want it…” Arthur smiled and passed him the plate with his piece of cake. After that, they returned to their previous activities – Arthur to working and Merlin to enjoying both a movie and a cake.  
  
Merlin didn’t hear when Arthur turned his laptop off, but when a scene with a shadow play and the obscene moves of Robin’s sword came and Merlin turned to look at Arthur, he found him looking back at him. The look was curious and contemplative. Merlin’s grin slowly morphed into an interested smile.  
  
Merlin looked back at the movie for a second, watching as Robin yanked off the bed sheet that worked as a screen till then and as the audience gathered on the other side of it sighed in disappointment, when they found out that it was only Robin’s sword not body parts that pointed skywards just a moment ago. Merlin chuckled once more, then let the movie be and focused on Arthur. He sucked on his fingers to get rid of the rest of the chocolate and to put up a little show and then wiped them dry in the napkin. Arthur observed him wordlessly the whole time.  
  
Merlin stood up and walked over to Arthur. He stopped right in front of him. Their legs touched ever so lightly. It felt like first real contact they had, unhindered by shields that Arthur put up whenever Merlin got too close or too personal. Merlin looked down, drinking in the sight. He took his clothes off, the turtleneck top first, skinny jeans next, leaving only his underwear on. He let Arthur study his own body in return. From the signals he learnt to read a long time ago, he could say Arthur quite liked what he saw.  
  
Merlin pillowed the spot between Arthur’s feet, put the TV on mute and knelt down. He leant over Arthur, looking straight to his eyes.  
  
“What do you want?” He asked quietly.  
  
“What do you do?” Arthur asked back.  
  
“Everything.” He replied. Remembering his rule number two, he added. “But I don’t kiss on the mouth.”  
  
“That’s fine with me.”  
  
Merlin bent down a nuzzled Arthur’s neck. If Arthur’s look did things to Merlin’s libido, it was nothing in comparison to what his scent did. Merlin tried the ground by carefully pressing his lips against Arthur’s skin. When he felt the hitch in Arthur’s breath, Merlin couldn’t – didn’t want to – hold back anymore. He tasted Arthur with passionate kisses, mouthing on his neck while unbuttoning his shirt. The angle was awkward. Merlin tilted back and grabbed Arthur under his knees. He used a momentum of his own body weight to pull him down until Arthur was in a lying position. Merlin’s hands went down and opened Arthur’s pants, revealing white cotton boxers. He pulled back, studying the shapes by both his eyes and fingers. Then he moved onto studying them with his mouth. And for once, he did not mind it at all.  
  
Merlin liked to watch people while having sex with them. He liked seeing what he did to them – or at least, when he found them attractive, he did. Watching Arthur to look back at him was somehow hypnotizing. The time stretched and formed into something that Merlin sensed only through throbbing of blood, breathless exhales and subconscious canting of hips. After some time Arthur closed his eyes, succumbing to Merlin’s ministrations fully, without any more reservations left.  
  
When it was over, Merlin wiped his mouth with his arm and waited for Arthur to come to himself. When he finally did and opened his eyes, Merlin wished the moment lasted longer, because spent Arthur was a sight to behold.  
  
“Let’s go upstairs.” Arthur prompted quietly.  
  
Merlin picked his clothes from the floor and waited for Arthur at the base of the stairs meanwhile Arthur picked up his laptop and plugged it to charge. When Arthur joined him, Merlin turned and started to climb the stairs. He barely went up first few steps when he heard Arthur’s gasp. Merlin stopped and turned to him.  
  
“What?” And even as he asked, from a direction of Arthur’s look, he deduced what was the reason behind Arthur’s perplexed expression.  
  
“Your… your bum.” Arthur stammered with his eyes still glued to Merlin’s lower parts. Eventually, he managed to lift them to Merlin’s face. Discomfited Arthur was precious.  
  
“Stark naked?” Merlin grinned, pushing Arthur’s buttons some more. “I am wearing jocks. You didn’t notice?” _‘Oh, God.’_ Arthur was completely tongue-tied, embarrassment seeping into his features. _‘He’s so sweet.’_ Merlin continued up the stairs. Arthur followed him and Merlin would bet he was trying hard not to stare at Merlin’s butt.  
  
“Is it any indication of your preference?” Arthur asked him after few more steps. And this time, it was Merlin’s turn to be put out of countenance. He hid his surprise well, though. Instead of answering, he merely turned his head and smiled down at Arthur while he went up the stairs.  


  


Upstairs, Arthur showed Merlin which door led to his sister’s personal rooms and which to a guestroom they would use. When they entered, it turned out to be luxuriously furnished, if with a little less personalized style than the rest of the apartment. The centre of the room was dominated by a big bed that certainly could not be meant for a single person. Yet, Merlin had a feeling that was exactly how it was usually used.  
  
“Nice.” Merlin sat down at the bed and ran his palms over undoubtedly expensive sheets. Arthur hummed in response.  
  
“So?” Merlin stretched out, propping back on his hands. He let his legs fall apart and he would be lying if he said it wasn’t intentional at all. For a moment, Arthur just stared at him, while Merlin waited for him to take an action.  
  
“I need to take a shower.” Arthur blurted instead and suddenly fled to the adjoining bathroom.  
  
Well, so much for letting Arthur take a lead. Merlin sighed. He already had a theory construed. From the hints Arthur gave away throughout the course of evening, Merlin gathered that Arthur wasn’t experienced in the same sex sexual encounters or – in Merlin’s own words – Arthur never shagged a man before. Arthur’s hasty dash only confirmed his theory, ruling out an option that Arthur was just shy. The chemistry between the two of them was so good. Just a moment ago, Merlin would have sworn that Arthur was just about to fling his arms round Merlin’s neck, but now he lay in the bed alone, waiting for Arthur to ‘take a shower’.  
  
/  
  
Something was tickling him on his ear. Merlin blinked his eyes open. It took him a second or two to focus and then he found himself looking into blue eyes of a breathtakingly handsome stranger.  
  
_‘Arthur.’_  
  
His thoughts swirled around his mind. He brought back memories of everything that happened last night and realized he must have fallen asleep while waiting for Arthur. And now he got him here, next to him, with his hand posed against Merlin’s collarbone. Did he just touch his ear? Oh, right, it had to be sticking out like always when he didn’t go through the pain of covering it by hair meticulously. Merlin let on a wry smile.  
  
“You’ve got me. Big ears.” He confessed self-mockingly, gesturing in the direction of his eternal nuisance. Arthur’s brows furrowed a little.  
  
“I think they’re lovely,” Arthur said with something akin to fondness when his frown evened out. He rose to place a soft kiss at Merlin’s ridiculous ear. Merlin felt the heat seeping to his cheeks.  
  
For a moment, Merlin completely forgot that he was a boy that Arthur rented. Right then and there, there were only Arthur’s gentle kisses, a whisper of his breath in Merlin’s ear and his scent that made Merlin’s head spin.  
  
Then, Arthur asked him whether there was some place he needed to be and Merlin suddenly realized Arthur had a job to go to and he stayed well past his invitation.  
  
“No, but I’ll just get my clothes on and be gone.” Merlin swallowed a hurt that bloomed in his chest and sat up.  
  
“I have a better plan for you.” Arthur stopped him before he managed to leave the bed. His voice was a little stubborn, a little playful and not at all as subdued as it was the night before. He pulled Merlin down by his arm. Once Merlin lay flat on his back, he hovered above him again, and Merlin’s throat went dry. Of course, he noticed that Arthur was attractive right from the start. He would have to be blind in order to miss that. However, only now in a broad daylight when Arthur was shirtless did he realize just how much Arthur would fit a role of a Greek god. He had a powerful body for someone who wore suit, divinely handsome face and foremost, he radiated an inner light, which Merlin found to be his most attractive feature of all.  
  
Arthur dipped his head down, going for Merlin’s lips, but then he obviously remembered Merlin’s rule and placed a kiss just under Merlin’s ear. After that, he pulled back, his blue-streaked eyes asking wordlessly for Merlin’s permission. Merlin didn’t say anything, too mesmerized to gather his thoughts for speaking. The fact he was a pro didn’t meant he was completely immune to charms of handsome men. Arthur had to figure that out, because he did not hesitate any longer and bowed to pepper Merlin’s neck with countless kisses. It did not matter what Arthur has or has not done before. And maybe they weren’t the hottest kisses Merlin has ever got, but they were given with such tenderness and care that it left him breathless. Merlin was spinning down the spiral of awe, apprehension and anticipation. When Arthur pulled Merlin in, the last prevailed and Merlin pulled, too.  
  
/  
  
“Mind if I take a shower before I leave?” Merlin asked. The morning wasn’t as awkward as Merlin remembered the mornings ‘after’ to be. It has been quite some time since the last time he actually slept in someone else’s bed.  
  
“Not at all. Everything in that bathroom’s there for guests, so suit yourself.” Arthur replied just as his cell phone rang. He fished it out and checked the screen. “I have to take this.” He apologized, looking up at Merlin again.  
  
“Okay, I’ll just…” Merlin gestured towards the bathroom and Arthur left. “Time to return to reality.” Merlin muttered to himself and sighed, when he was left alone. At least he got to use Arthur’s – or his sister’s, not that it really mattered – bathroom. It was much more spacious and much cleaner than Merlin’s. There were fluffy white towels and an assortment of bathing products that smelled like real flowers. Since he was already naked, Merlin simply stepped into the shower stall that consisted mostly of partially sandblasted glass. The water was wonderfully hot and the stream steady.  
  
Merlin soaped up his body and started to grin when he remembered what made it so sticky. Merlin started to hum. First, there was no particular melody, but later it formed into a song that Merlin heard somewhere in a radio, words flowing from his lips as they appeared in his mind.  
  
“You light me up inside like the 4th of July. Whenever you’re around I always seem to smile. And people ask me how, well, you’re the reason why I’m dancing in the mirror and singing in the shower. Hmm-hm-hmm-hm-hmm-mmm…”  
  
The rhythm filled him with energy, it was thrumming in his blood and Merlin let his body move with it. He grabbed the bottle of shampoo and used is as a microphone while he was swinging and swaying from side to side like he was a singer on a stage.  
  
If he could, he’d spend hours like that, but it wasn’t his apartment, so Merlin rinsed the foam from his hair and turned the water off. Arthur told him to use anything he found in the bathroom freely, so after a short consideration Merlin decided to pull on one of the clean bathrobes he found next to towels, planning to wear it until he dried up. It was next to impossible to get into his tight jeans while being wet anyway.  
  
/  
  
When Merlin came out of the bathroom, Arthur was waiting for him. Merlin was just drying his hair, the bathrobe still open, showing all there was to see. When he noticed Arthur, he wrapped the bathrobe around his waist to maintain at least a modicum of modesty.  
  
“Are you waiting for me? I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.” Merlin kept rubbing his scalp with the towel while he sat at the edge of a bed.  
  
“But I heard you.” Arthur’s lips curved in a lopsided smile that eventually turned to bright grin.  
  
“Oh, crap.” Merlin winced in embarrassment, but a smile tugged at his lips, too, in a face of Arthur’s cheerfulness.  
  
“Merlin, I have a business proposition for you.” Arthur brought up suddenly. Merlin dropped the towel and looked at him with curiosity.  
  
_‘What? Wanna hire me as a singer?’_ He thought sarcastically, but aloud he asked:  
  
“What do you want?”  
  
“I’d like you to spend whole week with me.” Arthur said as if he was asking Merlin to pass a salt while they ate. _‘I’d like you to spend…’_ Merlin replayed Arthur’s words in his own head. _‘No way!’_  
  
“Whole week?” Merlin wanted an assurance, aware of a goofy grin that already got hold of his facial muscles.  
  
“Yes, until Sunday. I’d like to hire you as my escort, to be at my beck and call.” Arthur explained his terms of the deal.  
  
Merlin was exultant, and still, he bit his lip in worry. His look went astray before it found Arthur’s eyes again, more serious than ever before.  
  
“Look, I’d love to be your …escort or whatever, but you’re a rich, good-looking guy. So. Why me?” Merlin grimaced. “You could get a million people for free.”  
  
“I want a professional.” Arthur told him without batting an eye. “I don’t want any romantic hassles this week.” He explained, then added with haste: “Or any other kind of hassles, for that matter. People tend to be complicated.” He did not need to explain himself to Merlin in such a detail, but it was endearing that he did.  
  
“And I am not.” _‘Complicated.’_ Merlin deduced. He was not sure whether he should be affronted or flattered. So he rather changed the topic. “If we’re talking twenty-four hours a day, it’s gonna cost you.” It was time for him to set his terms.  
  
“Ah, of course. You’re all about money.” Arthur sighed. “All right, let’s settle this. How much?” He looked tired, bothered. Well, what did he expect? Merlin was a rent boy, after all.  
  
“Let me count. Six full nights, days too… Four thousand.” Merlin shot impudently.  
  
“Six nights at three hundred is eighteen hundred.” Arthur wasn’t stupid and he could count. So he made it clear.  
  
“You want days, too.” Merlin pointed out, querulously, hopefully.  
  
“Two thousand.” Arthur proposed.  
  
“Three thousand.” Merlin bargained.  
  
“Deal.” To Merlin’s utter shock, Arthur acquiesced.  
  
“Holy shit!” Merlin cursed. He flopped at his back, feeling like he just won a lottery. Spending a week with Arthur and for three thousand pounds! Awed, he stared at the ceiling with a dopey grin.  
  
“Merlin. Is that yes?” Arthur interrupted his reverie and Merlin propped up on his elbows to look at Arthur.  
  
“Yes. Yes!” He laughed and flopped down again.  
  
“Good. Come down when you are ready.”  
  
/  
  
Merlin followed the burnt smell and found a sizzling pan with two burnt toasts. Arthur was crouching in front of one of the cabinets with his head almost inside, obviously absorbed in looking for something. Merlin rushed over to the stove and turned it off, lifting the pan from the source of heat simultaneously. He placed it on another, cold part of the stove and turned to Arthur.  
  
Arthur heard the noise and turned around, leaving the opened cabinet. “Merlin!” He exclaimed enthusiastically. “I was just looking for something that would… What’s the smell?” He scrunched his nose. Then his face blanched. “The toasts!” He sprung up to his legs in an instant with horrified look in his eyes.” He exhaled a relieved sigh, when he noticed the pan was already off of the flame. He dared to peek at the outcome. His face fell. “I wanted to make you a breakfast.” He said, disappointed.  
  
“Thank you.” Merlin replied sincerely. Even though the final product wasn’t edible, it warmed Merlin to know that Arthur tried. Nobody ever made him a breakfast except for his mum.  
  
“I’m sorry. I did not think it through. I didn’t realize that when Morgana’s gone, there’ll be so little to get by with.” Arthur admitted with remorse. “I should have gone and brought something from a bakery instead.”  
  
“Let me do this. You sit down.” Merlin ordered. “Just open the window first.” He added when his nose picked the burnt smell once more.  
  
“Bossy, aren’t you?” Arthur taunted, pretending to be serious, but Merlin paid back with an unimpressed eyebrow climbing up to his scalp and telling Arthur to keep his opinions to himself.  
  
Merlin searched the kitchen. Like Arthur said, there wasn’t much of food left, but Merlin made do with less. More frequently than he would like to admit.  
  
Merlin found the mildly stale toast bread Arthur used in his unsuccessful attempt of breakfast. He took a look in a fridge and found two eggs and a leftover milk that seemed to be just fine when he examined if it has gone sour yet. The task was made more difficult by the fact that Morgana obviously was not a fan of either canned or frozen food, but Merlin found pickled dried tomatoes and olives and a jar of tasty looking red-berry marmalade. It took him no time at all to scramble the eggs with some of the milk, soak the toasts in the mix and turn them into soft golden pieces of toasted bread. He chopped the dried tomatoes and olives and heated them up with some herbs he found in one of the drawers. It wasn’t anything special but it didn’t smell repulsively either.  
  
Merlin served his creation – toasts with pickle mix and marmalade in case that Arthur had a sweet tooth after all, even though he doubted it after what he saw the previous day. To Merlin’s relief and satisfaction, Arthur looked sincerely impressed by Merlin’s skill to conjure a tasteful breakfast from almost nothing, even though he didn’t say a thing.  
  
“You work late into the night, but don’t have to be anywhere early morning. IT?” Merlin inquired over the meal.  
  
“Do I look like IT?” Arthur asked curiously.  
  
Merlin shrugged. “Not really.”  
  
“I am not doing IT.” Arthur rebutted Merlin’s theory.  
  
“So what do you do?”  
  
“I am a CEO.”  
  
_‘CEO?’_  
  
“Oh. Never thought that CEOs had to work till 2 am.” Merlin remarked with a dubious look.  
  
“I have an important business to manage this week. I am buying another company.” Arthur explained.  
  
“And what do you do once you buy it?”  
  
“I incorporate it into my own.”  
  
“So you take someone else’s work and proclaim it your own? That’s like cheating with your homework.” Merlin taunted.  
  
“This is not a school. And it’s called an investment.” Arthur pretended to be superior to Merlin’s petit issues.  
  
“Mm-hmm.” Merlin hummed in a tone of voice that made it clear he didn’t buy it and bit into his toast instead.  


  


When they were finished with the breakfast, during which Arthur heartily stuffed himself with toasts and pickle mix (leaving the marmalade to Merlin), Arthur wiped his mouth and stood up. He looked at his watch.  
  
“I need to go. I’m already running late.” Merlin looked up at him. “I’ll be gone most of the day.” Finishing his marmalade toast, Merlin stood up as well. Arthur pulled on his suit jacket.  
  
“Give me your phone number.”  
  
Merlin recited it and Arthur saved it to his phone. He fiddled with the phone some more and soon Merlin’s phone chimed with an incoming message. When Merlin checked it, there was a text message with sequence of numbers divided by a comma.  
  
“That’s the entrance code to the building and the maisonette.” Arthur answered his question before Merlin even asked it. “Don’t even think of abusing it, this building has a better security system than some banks.” Merlin rolled his eyes.  
  
“And I want you to buy some clothes.” Arthur pulled out his wallet and gave Merlin a stack of banknotes. “We’re going out this evening. You’ll need something to wear.”  
  
“Like what?”  
  
“A suit. Formal. Nothing too flashy. Conservative.”  
  
“Boring.” Merlin translated.  
  
“Smart.” Arthur corrected, while trying to make himself presentable in front of a mirror. He straightened his shirt and jacket, picking at the lapels and stretching his sleeves by cuffs with cufflinks. He brushed his hair with his fingers and tried to smooth it down, but it still stuck one way or other. Watching Arthur struggle with his hair, Merlin stepped up to him.  
  
“Let me.” He smoothed his hair with a couple of skilled moves.  
  
“Not bad. Not bad at all.” Arthur appraised when Merlin stepped back and let Arthur look into the mirror again. Their eyes met in the reflection and Arthur gave Merlin a dazzling smile.  
Merlin felt a little overwhelmed.  
  
“I would’ve stayed for two thousand.” He admitted in a rare moment of frankness that equalled to weakness most of the time.  
  
“I would’ve paid four.” Arthur replied. Merlin’s breath got caught in his throat. “I’ll see you tonight.” Arthur said as he opened the door to leave.  
  
Merlin felt like a fool, a flattered fool. He will prove he was worthy of four thousand. In order to hide how much the moment of mutual honesty got to him, he put up his habitual “top goods” mask again. “Baby, I’m gonna treat you so nice, you’ll never want to let me go.” Merlin informed Arthur of his intentions with a seductive wink.  
  
“You can start with cleaning the place up, then.”  
  
“Hey, I am not a cleaning service!” Merlin protested with indignation. This certainly was not what he meant.  
  
“Yes, a cleaning service gets only ten pounds an hour.” Arthur retorted wistfully and closed the door behind him.  
  
_‘Prat.’_  
  
With a sigh Merlin went to clean up after the breakfast.  
  
/  
  
“Hello?” Gwaine’s sleep-hoarse voice answered after fifth ring.  
  
“Gwaine.”  
  
“Merlin?” His friend perked up with surprise. “Where are you?”  
  
“I’m in one guy’s apartment in Marylebone. A maisonette. It has two bathrooms! And the smaller one is triple size of ours!”  
  
“Do I have to hear this?” Gwaine answered in a little annoyed tone.  
  
“Gwaine, he wants me to stay the whole week.” Merlin moved to the more important part. “And you know what he’s gonna give me?” Merlin asked with a feeling of satisfaction.  
  
“No. Spill it out already.” Gwaine grumbled impatiently.  
  
“Three friggin’ thousand pounds!” Merlin announced with a glee.  
  
“Bollocks!” Gwaine exclaimed with disbelief.  
  
“I swear. And extra money to buy clothes.”  
  
“Fuck.” There was a moment of silence before Merlin’s friend found his voice again. “I told you you’ll make more without me.” Merlin rolled his eyes.  
  
“Yeah, you did.” He sighed.  
  
“Three thousand. Really? Is he perverse?” Gwaine asked with a hint of worry.  
  
“No.”  
  
“Ugly?” Gwaine tried again.  
  
“He’s good-looking!” Merlin defended.  
  
“Well, then what’s wrong with him?” Gwaine asked and Merlin had a protest that he isn’t that bad-looking himself for someone to actually willing to pay him on the tip of his tongue, but not even Gwaine ever got so much money, so he swallowed it down.  
  
“Nothing.” He said instead.  
  
“Did he give you the money yet?” Gwaine said, obviously thinking he finally hit the nail.  
  
“At the end of the week. But! He gave me three hundred for last night.”  
  
Gwaine finally ran out of arguments.  
  
“Seems I’ll give you my half of a rent beforehand this time. And also what I owe you from last month.”  
  
“That sounds good.”  
  
“I’ll stop by later. Now, one more thing. Where do I go for a suit? A good one, on him.”  
  
“Never been to Bond Street before, Merlin?”  
  
/  
  
A suit. Merlin did never buy a suit before.  
  
_'What’s there to mess up? It either fits or doesn’t.'_  
  
Merlin gathered his courage and entered one of the shops with fancy suits in its display window.  
  
Inside it was quiet except for a low ambient music and it smelled nice. Merlin started to go through the nearby clothes rack, checking colours and patterns of the suit jackets.  
  
“Are you looking for something in particular?” A male shop attendant in a starched suit asked him and Merlin turned to him.  
  
“Something… conservative.” He stammered, remembering Arthur’s demands.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“You’ve got nice stuff.” Merlin praised as he took a look around. A dark grey suit on one of the mannequin figurines caught his eye. He walked up to it, the attendant at his heels. “How much is this?” Merlin asked him.  
  
“I don’t think this would fit you.” The attendant said in a reserved tone. All right. Maybe it wasn’t that simple – to pick a suit – after all.  
  
“And what would fit me?” Merlin asked politely.  
  
“I don’t think we have anything that would fit you, sir. Am I right, Claire?” He turned to the woman behind the cash register.  
  
“No, we don’t.” She agreed with her colleague.  
  
“Look, I’ve got money to spend here.” Merlin protested, when he got a whiff of what was going on.  
  
“You are obviously in a wrong place. Could you leave now, please?” The attendant told him condescendingly with fake, venom-dripping politeness.  
  
_‘So this is how it is’_ , Merlin thought bitterly as he left the shop disgusted. It didn’t matter whether you’ve got money unless you were one of them. _‘Hypocrites.’_


	8. Arthur

The breakfast was a disaster. Arthur’s culinary skills obviously started with brewing a tea and stopped there. He burnt the toasts, which amounted to only edible thing he found, when looking for ingredients.  
  
“I wanted to make you a breakfast.” Arthur sighed, defeated.  
  
“Thank you.” Merlin appreciated it nonetheless. That made Arthur to feel better and worse at the same time.  
  
“I’m sorry. I did not think it through. I didn’t realize that when Morgana’s gone, there’ll be so little to get by with.” Arthur admitted with remorse. “I should have gone and brought something from a bakery instead.” When he was with Mithian, he never had to worry about things like that.  
  
“Let me do this. You sit down. Just open the window first.” Merlin ordered him around as if it was the most natural thing to do.  
  
“Bossy, aren’t you?” Arthur teased him and Merlin showed him an exemplary unimpressed eyebrow that made it clear enough for Arthur to shut up.  
  
Arthur watched Merlin going through Morgana’s kitchen. He doubted he would come up with something better than Arthur himself did, but he let him at least try.  
  
It seemed that Merlin found something at last, because he started to pull some things out. Merlin went through a fridge and picked some eggs and an almost empty bottle of milk. Among the things he found in the cabinet, Arthur glimpsed some jars. Merlin checked the milk and then started to scramble something and chop and fry. The outcome looked and smelled wonderful. Merlin managed to turn the stale toast bread into tempting golden pieces complemented with some sort of Mediterranean-like side dish. Arthur had no words. When Merlin set everything on the table and sat down opposite of him, Arthur did not wait and got busy eating.  
  
“You work late into the night, but don’t have to be anywhere early morning. IT?” Merlin asked him over the meal. Curious, Arthur asked if he looked like one.  
  
Merlin shrugged. “Not really.”  
  
“I am not doing IT.” Arthur confirmed.  
  
“So what do you do?” Merlin asked again.  
  
“I am a CEO.”  
  
“Oh. Never thought that CEOs had to work till 2 am.” Merlin looked him up dubiously.  
  
“I have an important business to manage this week. I am buying another company.” Arthur went for a simplified explanation. The truth was that he was busy most of the time, just now the work he did was more important than ever before.  
  
“And what do you do once you buy it?” Merlin took further interest in Arthur’s occupation.  
  
“I incorporate it into my own.” Arthur replied simply. He did not expect Merlin’s reaction.  
  
“So you take someone else’s work and proclaim it your own? That’s like cheating with your homework.” Merlin reprimanded him.  
  
“This is not a school. And it’s called an investment.” Arthur replied with as much dignity as he could muster up.  
  
“Mm-hmm.” Merlin hummed and Arthur could almost hear his thoughts saying ‘Whatever you call it, it’s just the same thing anyway. And you know it.’  


  


The breakfast tasted as good as it looked and when Arthur finished his portion, he felt a sudden regret that there’s not more. Instead of dwelling on it, he wiped his mouth and stood up, checking his watch.  
  
“I need to go. I’m already running late.” Merlin met his look. “I’ll be gone most of the day.” Merlin stood up as well while Arthur pulled on his suit jacket. Thinking pragmatically again, Arthur asked Merlin for his phone number. He saved it to his phone and sent Merlin the access codes to Morgana’s flat so that he could leave and return freely. He said as much to Merlin, when he raised his eyes to Arthur with a questioning look.  
  
“Don’t even think of abusing it, this building has a better security system than some banks.” Arthur warned him and Merlin rolled his eyes.  
  
“And I want you to buy some clothes.” Arthur proceeded to next issue. He pulled out his wallet and gave Merlin all the cash he had in banknotes. He checked the sum briefly. It should be more than sufficient for Merlin to buy something suitable. “We’re going out this evening. You’ll need something to wear.”  
  
“Like what?”  
  
“A suit. Formal. Nothing too flashy. Conservative.” Arthur specified.  
  
“Boring.” Merlin translated.  
  
“Smart.” Arthur corrected, while trying to make himself presentable in front of a mirror. He straightened his clothes, trying his best to make the wrinkles from yesterday inconsiderate treatment of his shirt invisible. He tried to smooth his hair down with his fingers, but without much success. Watching Arthur struggle, Merlin stepped up to him.  
  
“Let me.” He smoothed his hair with a couple of skilled moves, inspecting Arthur’s hair from all angles.  
  
“Not bad. Not bad at all.” Arthur appraised, when Merlin stepped back and Arthur looked into the mirror again. Their eyes met in the reflection and Arthur smiled.  
  
“I would’ve stayed for two thousand.” Merlin said suddenly.  
  
“I would’ve paid four.” Arthur admitted, taken aback by Merlin’s sincerity. “I’ll see you tonight.” Arthur said and felt really happy about it. He opened the door to leave.  
  
“Baby, I’m gonna treat you so nice, you’ll never want to let me go.” Merlin told him in that ‘I am good and I am gonna show it to you’ act of his before Arthur could leave. He topped it with a want-to-be seductive wink.  
  
“You can start with cleaning the place up, then.” Arthur smirked spitefully.  
  
“Hey, I am not a cleaning service!” Merlin rose in protest and Arthur laughed inwardly. _‘Oh, Merlin. I got you.’_  
  
“Yes, a cleaning service gets only ten pounds an hour.” Arthur retorted wistfully and closed the door, leaving Merlin to his chagrin and well-deserved indignation.  
  
/  
  
Painfully aware of his ruffled look, Arthur knew he could not go around like this whole week. Therefore, before he even got a taxi (he wasn’t driving Morgana’s car any time soon again if he could help it), he took his phone and called his personal assistant.  
  
“Lance?”  
  
“Good morning, Arthur.” Arthur’s assistant answered in his brand sincere kind of way. Arthur skipped unnecessary pleasantries as usual.  
  
“I need a personal favour from you.”  
  
“Of course. What is it?” Lancelot asked openly without a hint of hesitation.  
  
“Mithian and I broke up yesterday.” Arthur filled him in on latest news.  
  
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.” Lancelot truly sounded sorry and if Arthur could say, a little worried, too. Arthur brushed it off.  
  
“I’m staying at Morgana’s for now. Do you have her address in your directory?”  
  
“Let me check it… yes, it’s here.”  
  
“Could you go to my apartment, pick some of my things and bring it over to Morgana’s flat? Clothes, mostly. I’ll need some suits – the black Hugo Boss, grey Armani …and the Tom Ford deep blue one, too. Pick ten shirts that would fit them. And ties. My collection of watch. Oh, and one pair of shoes, just in case. And if you’d be so good and added some underwear, I’d be indebted to you.”  
  
“I got it. Is that all?”  
  
“Yes.” Arthur said, but then wavered. “Wait, no. Listen, there’s… I have got a guest there.” Arthur admitted with no small amount of awkwardness. Lancelot and him spent many hours a day together, but they were never that personal to confide something like this. Lancelot, however, took in in stride.  
  
“I understand. Don’t worry.” He assured Arthur and hang up.  
  
/  
  
Arthur entered his office only to check his mail, since even in the age of electronic information there still were letters delivered by postmen. He flicked through the couple of envelopes that waited for him on his table and decided that none of it was important enough to demand his immediate attention. Then, he took the folder that Lancelot prepared for him earlier in the morning and headed to a meeting.  
  
In a boardroom, his uncle Agravaine, Geoffrey and Leon already sat at a table, waiting for him. They exchanged greetings and Arthur sat down on his place.  
  
“Where’s Gaius?” Arthur inquired when he could not find the last member of the team in the meeting room.  
  
“He’s late. He said to go ahead, he will join us during the meeting.” Leon informed him calmly and Arthur could see the disapproving looks on both Agravaine’s and Geoffrey’s faces. Arthur suppressed a sigh.  
  
“Let’s start with the presentation, then.” He decided.  
  
Leon started the projection.  
  
“As you already know, the greatest asset of Bayard Spa Hotels is in their location. The largest hotel is located on a scenic Devon seaside. A beach is visible from almost any part of the grounds. Holiday cottages can be used as they are, with only interior design adjustments. However, the main building is rather out-dated and in need of reconstruction. We recommend demolition and erection of a new building that would fit standards of Camelot Hotels.”  
  
In that moment, Gaius slipped through the door with a grim expression.  
  
“I’ve got news on Bayard.” He said to the team.  
  
“Leon, can you hold the projection, please.” Arthur’s uncle Agravaine requested.  
  
“Speak.” He turned back to Gaius.  
  
“Bayard Spa Hotels just passed the preliminary round of Culture Preservation grant.”  
  
“Culture Preservation grant. I can’t believe this.” Agravaine started an angry rant at Gaius. “You said they have no options for funding the necessary repairs; that they will have to shut their business down no later than next year!”  
  
“If that’s true they might want more or even not accept the acquisition offer at all.” Geoffrey, also in obviously upset state, commented.  
  
“Maybe it is fortunate we got this information now.” Gaius speculated. “We can still walk away from it.”  
  
“Walk away?” Agravaine looked at him as if Gaius just went completely insane. “That’s not going to happen. We already invested too much time and money in this to back down now!” Agravaine’s voice steadily rose.  
  
“Nobody’s backing down yet, but we need to…” Leon tried to placate him.  
  
“No!” Agravaine protested before he could finish whatever he wanted to say.  
  
“Agravaine, I think he’s right.” Geoffrey stepped in, much to Agravaine’s chagrin.  
  
“And what would you-“ The argument escalated fast, but before it could turn into a shouting match, Arthur cut it.  
  
“Gentlemen, relax!” He finally spoke over the din. “Who do we know in DCMS?” Arthur asked. It was the first constructive thing that was said since Gaius brought the news.  
  
“Patricia Anders.” His uncle provided the information he sought.  
  
“Mrs. Anders. All right, let’s see what she can do about the grant.” Arthur decided. With that he stood up, there was nothing else he could do for this matter at the moment. “I’ll be at my office. Geoffrey, stop by later, please. I’d like to discuss some things regarding our accounts.”  
  
Geoffrey nodded and Arthur turned to leave but was stopped in the door by Agravaine.  
  
“Arthur.” Arthur turned to his uncle, who followed him out of the door. “Are you sure about the evening?” Arthur gave him a polite patient look.  
  
“Yes, I am. I want all the cards on the table.”  
  
“Who… Who is this person you are going with?” Curiosity got a better of Agravaine.  
  
“Nobody you know.” Arthur said, maintaining a degree of respect in his voice despite his choice of words. With that they parted, Arthur continuing his way to CEO office and Agravaine back to the meeting room.  
  
/  
  
Around a noon, when Arthur, lacking an appetite, picked on a salad that was his lunch, he took his phone and dialled Merlin’s number.  
  
“Arthur?” Merlin’s young and lively voice immediately improved Arthur’s mood.  
  
“Did you buy the suit?” He asked him.  
  
“Yes. I’ve got one. Formal – peak lapels, jetted pockets, four buttons on the sleeves and all.” Merlin listed with fake importance. Obviously, Merlin learnt fast.  
  
“That’s good. I’ll meet you at the basement floor car park at seven thirty sharp.” Arthur instructed.  
  
“What? I should wait for you in a garage? That’s not very gentleman-like.” Merlin asked with indignation.  
  
“This isn’t a date. It’s a business.” Arthur replied curtly.  
  
“Where are you taking me, anyway?” Merlin changed the topic.  
  
“Save The Coast fundraiser.”  
  
“A fundraiser?” Merlin asked with no small amount of surprise. “What if- What if someone recognizes me?”  
  
“I wouldn’t worry about that.”  
  
“…All right.” He said after two or three seconds. “I’ll meet you at the car park, but only because you’re paying me to.” Defiant at all times.  
  
“Oh, thank you.” Arthur reacted with answer full of sarcasm. “Seven thirty.” He reminded Merlin sternly.  
  
“Yeah, OK.”  
  
/  
  
The rest of the day was even more stultifying than the morning and Arthur caught himself more than once looking at his watch and wishing it was already evening. When the time to leave approached, he gladly turned off his computer and left his office. He already wore a formal dark grey suit that Lancelot, being the most treasured employee of Arthur, brought for him along with a shaving set and Arthur’s favourite cologne. The invitations were secured by his uncle, so the only thing left was to pick Merlin up. However, the traffic wasn’t optimal and despite Arthur’s time reserve, he was about fifteen minutes late.  
  
When Arthur finally stepped out of the car, the car park seemed empty. It was silent with an exception of engine hum of Arthur’s own car. He told Elyan to not cut off the engine, since they were in a hurry, that it would take them only a minute to get back on. In the cold light of fluorescent lamps, he took a look around the car park, where expensive cars were silently standing in rows next to each other, leaving an empty space here and there. More cars were situated in their own parking stalls. The light was reflecting from their gleaming paint in their lifeless rest.  
  
From the corner of his eye, Arthur saw a motion and turned in its direction. On a wall, there was an information board and in front of it stood some well-dressed gentleman, obviously studying a content of the board. Arthur sighed. _‘Where’s the dimwit? He should have been here fifteen minutes ago!’ _– Arthur thought and hoped he won’t have to go upstairs to drag Merlin down.  
  
He stepped up to the stranger with intention to ask whether he, by chance, didn’t see a boy in a suit loitering around.  
  
“Excuse me.” Arthur addressed the man, when he was about four steps away. “Have you seen-“ Arthur took one more step towards him and the gentleman turned. “Merlin.” The world seemed to slow down to a stop for a second, when he recognized him.  
  
“You’re late.” Merlin told him with an accusing smirk, looking into Arthur’s eyes. Arthur looked back.  
  
“You’re stunning.” Arthur said, because it was true.__


	9. Merlin

Disturbed by outcome of his shopping attempt, Merlin returned to the flat. He was quite sure that if he entered another posh brand shop, it would go down in a similar way. Anyway, he was not in mood to try whether his hypothesis was right or wrong. The excitement about buying something luxurious he couldn’t afford otherwise that Merlin felt this morning disappeared as if it was never there and was replaced by an anger, disappointment and self-depreciation. He was less than a human for those self-important arseholes. He just went down from a phase of rightful fury into self-pity, when he registered a beep of security system. Merlin was huddled at the sofa, when he heard the door to maisonette open. For a moment he thought it might be Arthur, but that idea was swept away by a sight of dark-haired figure that, for a lack of better comparison, looked like a Christmas tree - garment bags and a messenger bag fully obscuring their body.  
  
The strange man – for it was a man as Merlin found out, when the person turned after closing the door – looked up, searching the place with his eyes until they stopped on Merlin, who hastily wiped away the tears that run down his cheeks and that he was unaware of until that moment.  
  
“Wow.” The man commented inadvertently, shucking the load of bags he brought along.  
  
“Hello to you, too.” Merlin replied acidly as some of the fury he felt a while ago returned to him. “Who are you?” He asked in blunt terms.  
  
“I’m Lancelot, Arthur’s PA.” The man introduced himself. Merlin took in the slightly crumpled suit, wavy hair and cultivated stubble. “Arthur told me he had a guest, but I didn’t expect…”  
  
“What?” Merlin dared him to finish the sentence. And Merlin could picture quite well whom Arthur’s personal assistant expected to be Arthur’s guest. Image of pretty young lady with posh manners and noble birth played a main role in his momentary fantasy. Lancelot obviously realized how arrogant that sounded and repented.  
  
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. This was a bad start. I didn’t meant to insult you.”  
  
“I probably don’t fit Arthur’s usual range of guests, do I?” Merlin asked after a moment, deflated.  
  
“No, you don’t.” Lancelot replied frankly.  
  
Merlin unfolded himself from the sofa.  
  
“…You seem upset.” Lancelot tried to pick his words more carefully this time.  
  
Merlin laughed mirthlessly.  
  
“You’d say?”  
  
“What happened?” Lancelot sat in the armchair opposite of Merlin.  
  
Merlin’s mind returned to the moments of his humiliation and he clenched his jaw in an attempt to supress the tears that treacherously threatened to fill his eyes again.  
  
“Arthur’s taking me out this evening. He told me to buy a formal suit.” Merlin started once he was sure his voice won’t break. “So I tried to go and get a suit on a Bond Street today. I went to this posh brand shop with a pocket full of money, but they wouldn’t help me! They won’t sell me a friggin’ suit just because I am not already dressed in one!” He got all emotional again, so he rather shut his mouth. He took a deep breath and pulled out the money Arthur gave him. “Not that I expect you to help me, but I have all this money, see? I have to buy a suit for dinner tonight. And nobody’s willing to help me.”  
  
Lancelot watched him silently for a little longer and then pulled out his phone.  
  
“What now?” Merlin asked him irately. “Are you going to call Arthur to tell him that his idiotic rent boy date wasn’t capable to even buy a suit? So he shouldn’t count on me?”  
  
“Gwen? I’m fine. Thank you. Listen, I’d like you to do a favour for me, please.” He looked back at Merlin. “I’m sending someone over. His name is…” Lancelot raised his eyebrows in a silent question.  
  
“Merlin.” Merlin mumbled.  
  
“His name is Merlin.” Arthur’s personal assistant continued. “He’s a special guest of Camelot Hotels. A close friend of the CEO.”  
  
/  
  
“Hello. You must be Merlin. My name is Gwen.” A tan-skinned girl with dark curly hair and warm smile welcomed Merlin, when he arrived to an address Lancelot scribbled on a post-it note for him.  
  
“Yeah, hi. Lancelot said you’ll help me.” Merlin fidgeted, looking around a dress studio nervously.  
  
“Of course, I will.” She patted him lightly over his arm. “You are lucky you’ve got Lancelot to help you. He’s very kind.” She smiled dreamily and then asked Merlin: “So what are your plans while you’re in town?”  
  
_‘Oh, right. While I’m in town…, because I’m a guest.’_  
  
“I am not sure, but I am supposed to get a formal suit. Something _smart_.” Merlin said with dramatic emphasis on the last word.  
  
“Alright. I can work with that.” Gwen nodded to herself. “I’m sure we’re going to find something here that’ll make you dashing.” She winked at him. “You’re a size thirty-one, right?”  
  
“Yeah. How did you know?”  
  
“Oh, that’s my job.” She giggled.  
  
/  
  
An hour later, Merlin got absolutely fantastic slim fitted suit that somehow managed to make his body look like it belonged to someone in a beauty magazine. He looked stronger and even taller and very, very elegant. The suit’s colour was simple black, which made the clean lines perfectly fitting Merlin’s figure more pronounced. During that time he also got a thorough lecture about suit style details. Then Gwen helped him pick a shirt, shoes and something on his neck, too, (for which Merlin’s fund was fortunately sufficient) and Merlin didn’t know how to thank her enough.  
  
When he left the studio, he called Lancelot, who left him his number in case Merlin got into other unexpected troubles.  
  
“Lance?”  
  
“Merlin? Is there any problem?” Lancelot asked him with concern.  
  
“No! I’ve got a suit! Gwen was really great. I just wanted to say thanks.”  
  
“You’re welcome.”  


  


Merlin stopped in his own flat, leaving some money for Gwaine as he promised. He picked few things he thought he might need and headed back to Arthur’s sister’s flat, buying a lunch on the way.  
  
Merlin entered the maisonette and put away the suit. He was about to make himself a cup of coffee, when his phone rang.  
  
“Arthur?”  
  
“Did you buy the suit?” Arthur asked him.  
  
“Yes. I’ve got one. Formal – peak lapels, jetted pockets, four buttons on the sleeves and all.” With fake importance Merlin named all the details that Gwen taught him. No hurt in trying to impress his boss.  
  
“That’s good. I’ll meet you at the basement floor car park at seven thirty sharp.” Arthur instructed.  
  
“What? I should wait for you in a garage? That’s not very gentleman-like.” Merlin pouted, a bit disappointed by Arthur’s pragmatism.  
  
“This isn’t a date. It’s a business.” Arthur replied tersely.  
  
“Where are you taking me, anyway?” Merlin rather asked instead of commenting.  
  
“Save The Coast fundraiser.”  
  
“A fundraiser?” Merlin repeated incredulously. Arthur caught him off guard. “What if- What if someone recognizes me?”  
  
“I wouldn’t worry about that.”  
  
“…All right.” He said after a moment. He wasn’t prepared to forgive Arthur altogether yet, though, so he added a little bit of a vicious act. “I’ll meet you at the car park, but only because you’re paying me to.”  
  
“Oh, thank you.” Arthur reacted with answer full of sarcasm. “Seven thirty.” He reminded Merlin sternly.  
  
“Yeah, OK.” Merlin agreed before hanging up.  


When he stood in front of a high mirror, holding the suit in front of him, he couldn’t help the giddy feeling. He couldn’t wait till the evening. Merlin run his hand through his hair and took a deep breath, feeling excitement to expand in his chest. Then he looked back at the mirror and his dishevelled hair. He tried to fix it into somewhat representative hair style, but soon he figured out it was no help.  
  
“Lancelot?”  
  
“Merlin?”  
  
“Hi.”  
  
“What’s the matter? Something with the suit?”  
  
“Oh, no, no, no. Um, do you know some barber?”  
  
/  
  
There wasn’t much for Merlin to do after he got back from the barber, so he invested his time into preparation. Arthur insisted that Merlin was on time, so he better be.  
  
Five minutes before arranged time, Merlin closed the door of the maisonette and took an elevator to the basement floor. This time he wasn’t afraid of strange looks of other tenants, but at the same time he was really nervous about what Arthur would say, whether he would like what he saw. His rational part told him that he never looked better so he should not worry, but another, silly and anxious part persistently repeated that Merlin knew next to nothing about clothing of the wealthy. Merlin just hoped that Arthur didn’t lie when he said he thought his ears are lovely, because his new haircut, albeit nice, did not hide them anymore and it left him feeling exposed and vulnerable.  
  
Merlin left the elevator into relatively cold air of the car park. He was evidently on time, since Arthur wasn’t there yet. A car drove in and Merlin’s heart rate picked up, but then he saw there was a middle-aged man behind the steering wheel and he calmed down again. On the passenger seat, there was a lady that was undoubtedly his wife. They parked and passed Merlin on their way to the elevator. The look they gave Merlin was one of a polite curiosity, with no resent, as much as Merlin could see. He looked around a spotted a clock mounted on a near wall. He checked it for a time and found the clock hands showed seven thirty-five. Arthur was late.  
  
First, Merlin stood by the elevator, but soon he started to pace impatiently. Did Arthur do this on purpose? Merlin couldn’t imagine more boring place for waiting. There wasn’t even a bench he could sit on. As good as he was in driving, he wasn’t one to look at cars as if they were miracles of engineering. Maybe another time, when he would not be so tense with nervous energy, he would appreciate the sight and ogle some of the cars, but now he had no thoughts for them.  
  
He kept looking up at the clock all the while – seven thirty-seven, seven thirty-eight, seven forty-one, … He walked over to an information board instead. He was not really interested in what was written on the attached pieces of paper, but he read it anyway. The information on most of the pages was building-related and thus for Merlin, who didn’t actually live there, not only boring, but also completely useless.  
  
When a sound of engine rumbled through the car park again, Merlin turned and glimpsed a black man driving. He forced himself to patiently turn back to the board.  
  
_‘Wait, the car looked like a limo.’_ Suddenly, he realized it probably _was_ Arthur in that car, coming to pick him up. A new wave of adrenalin made his skin tingle. He stared at the board in front of him, unable to move. He won’t turn, he will wait. Merlin didn’t want to be first eager and then disappointed if it wasn’t Arthur after all.  
  
“Excuse me.” Someone who sounded suspiciously like Arthur spoke from behind his back. Merlin didn’t hear any footfalls over a sound of running engine. “Have you seen-“ Merlin turned. And there he was, in all his lofty grace, even more winsome than the night before. Arthur’s broad shoulders were enveloped in perfectly fitting dark grey suit, his blond hair brushed to a side. His face bore an expression of surprise. “Merlin.” Arthur uttered, looking totally dumbfounded.  
  
“You’re late.” Looking into his eyes, Merlin accused him with a smirk on his face and a feeling of butterflies in his stomach.  
  
“You’re stunning.” Arthur replied deadly serious.  


Arthur opened the door of the limo for him and Merlin got on. For once his long legs weren’t crammed in a small space with his knees jutting up, even though he was sitting at the backseat. He barely had time to settle comfortably when Arthur joined him, telling the driver to go even as he was closing the door.  
  
“He’s your personal driver?” Curious, Merlin whispered after a while.  
  
“Elyan works for the company. So, no, he is not my personal driver. I just use his service.” Arthur answered clearly.  
  
“Every day.” Merlin muttered bitingly. _‘I bet.’_  
  
Arthur huffed in indignation.  
  
“I let you know I have my own car, but neither you nor I are driving tonight.” He explained. And that sounded good enough for Merlin to close his mouth.  
  
/  
  
The limo dropped them off before a concert hall, where the fundraiser took place. They joined a queue that led up to a reception desk where two men in livery checked the invitation list before letting the guests in. Shortly before it was their turn, as if he just remembered, Arthur leant towards Merlin and asked him lowly.  
  
“What’s your surname?” He probably really forgot about it before. Merlin himself didn’t realize that his full name would be needed.  
  
“Morgan.” Merlin replied and in the next moment, a pair of guests in front of them was let through and the receptionist turned to them.  
  
“Good evening, gentlemen.”  
  
“Arthur Pendragon and Merlin Morgan.” Arthur informed him immediately. This was ridiculous. Merlin Morgan’s name on a fundraiser guest list!  
  
The receptionist scanned his list and when he looked up he asked.  
  
“Mr. Morgan – that would be the other guest from Camelot Hotels?” He looked first at Arthur and then at Merlin. A shadow of doubt overcast Merlin’s heart. He started to feel insecure. What if something went wrong? Did he look the part? What should he say?  
  
Arthur solved everything, when he confirmed: “Yes, that is him.”  
  
“Thank you.” The receptionist made a note in the list and the other offered them a flute of champagne immediately. “This way, please.”  
  
_‘That’s all?’_ Merlin thought in surprise and followed as he was asked.  
  
The space was full of men in fancy suits and women in evening dresses. They were led through a foyer and a main hall to their table. A man in his fifties and a young girl were already seated there.  
  
“Mr. Bayard.” Arthur greeted. The man looked up. His brown hair and beard were peppered with grey and subtle wrinkles already creased the soft skin around his eyes. There were two deeper ridges running up his forehead from the base of his nose. Both he and the girl stood up.  
  
“Yes, Mr. Pendragon. I am Henry Bayard.” He confirmed and shook Arthur’s hand. Then he looked at the girl by his side. She could have been about twenty-five years old. “And this Amazon is my daughter Vivian.” He introduced her and she smiled at them tensely.  
  
“My father thinks all red-heads are evil witches.” She apologized, while shaking hands with Arthur. She was striking in her dark green gown, long curls of her copper hair falling over her shoulders. Her lips were poisonously red.  
  
“Your mother was a red-head, darling.” Bayard reminded her and she raised her eyebrows back at him.  
  
“I’m pleased to meet you both.” Arthur intercepted. “This is a friend of mine, Merlin Morgan.”  
  
“Hi. I’m really glad to meet you.” Merlin tried his best to be casually charming, shaking his hand with both of them as well.  
  
“Let’s sit.” Bayard suggested. When they were all seated comfortably, he continued. “So. What brings you here?” Bayard asked Arthur with a sceptic quirk of an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you found a sudden interest in littoral fauna and flora.”  
  
To his credit, Arthur didn’t try to pretend that he did.  
  
“No, but my friend here brought it to my attention lately. It means a lot to Merlin.”  
  
_‘That bastard.’_ Of course, Merlin didn’t know a thing about the stuff.  
  
“Is that so?” The old man measured Merlin with a new-gained interest.  
  
Merlin smiled and tried to give an impression of serious involvement.  
  
“Yes, it is.”  
  
Fortunately for Merlin, Bayard let him be and took the conversation elsewhere.  
  
“I, personally, am here because of Vivian. She’s very invested in environment preservation.” He looked at his daughter with proud, if a little lenient look. Then, he turned back to Arthur with more serious expression. “And the fact we’re sitting at the same table? Is that a coincidence?”  
  
“Well, no. I have to admit that when I saw your name on the guest list, I decided to take the chance and let us meet in person.” Arthur admitted.  
  
“I see.” Bayard seemed content with hearing what he thought was true.  
  
“You declined my invitation to meet before.” Arthur told him with a mild reproach.  
  
“That might to do with a fact I have nothing to gain by meeting you. I have already dealt with Pendragon Hotels five years ago.” Bayard gave it to Arthur straight.  
  
“Ah, you have met my father.” Arthur translated.  
  
“Yes. And I still wish I haven’t.” Bayard confirmed.  
  
“My father is no longer in lead of Pendragon Hotels.” Arthur noted a little defensively.  
  
“Did he give you the place on his own accord or have you hounded him out?” Bayard joked and it stung Merlin as if the joke was made on him. Why did Bayard think such harsh things about Arthur if he has never even met him before? Was Arthur really like that? Merlin couldn’t fit the image of arrogant but courteous and at times also quite selfless Arthur with the aggressive nasty one together.  
  
“He passed away.” Arthur said and only then they realized how awful the joke was.  
  
“Oh, I hadn’t heard. I’m sorry.” At least Bayard had enough decency to apologize to him.  
  
“I’m sorry, too.” Merlin joined in.  
  
The awkward silence was broken by Vivian, who remained passive until then. “You wanted to talk. Let’s talk then. What are your plans with the seaside resort in case we sell it to you?” Vivian asked Arthur boldly.  
  
“To make it a part of Pendragon Hotels.” Arthur matched her business approach.  
  
“As it is?” She asked doubtfully.  
  
“I’ll adjust the holiday cottages interior design and I will tear off the main building and replace it with a new one that would fit our standards.” Arthur answered.  
  
Bayard also joined the conversation.  
  
“I’m sure you’ll understand I’m not thrilled at the idea of you turning my heritage and a life-worth of work into uniformed chain hotel.”  
  
“At the price I’m paying for this resort, you are going to be a very rich man, Mr. Bayard.” Arthur assured him.  
  
“I’m rich enough. I just want to preserve my family heritage.”  
  
“You’re not rich enough to do a reconstruction that the building requires to be used further.” Arthur pointed out.  
  
“We will be. We’re getting a grant from Department for Culture.” Bayard disagreed.  
  
“There will be no Culture Preservation grant.” Arthur informed them curtly. Vivian looked like she would get a stroke.  
  
“You’ve got dirty politicians in your pockets now? I can’t believe you’d do this.” She fumed.  
  
“Easy, easy. Calm down, Vivian. Mr. Pendragon gives it his all.” Her father intervened, looking at Arthur with assessing look.  
  
“Yes, I do.” Arthur confirmed without a hint of shame.  
  
“I’ve got enough of this. Merlin, it was a great pleasure to meet you.” Vivian stood up. “I’m sorry, father. I have to go get some air. Mr. Pendragon.” She nodded Arthur’s way before striding away. Bayard looked after her, then turned to his companions.  
  
“I’d better join my daughter. You two enjoy the evening. Good luck, Mr. Morgan.” He wished Merlin in not unpleasant tone. “This isn’t over yet, Mr. Pendragon.” He warned Arthur with threat clear in his voice.  
  
“I’m sure of that.” Arthur responded. When Bayard also disappeared from their sight, Merlin turned to Arthur.  
  
“Rich people make short work of their opposition, don’t they?” He asked. “He seems like a good man.”  
  
“I guess three thousand pounds does not buy loyalty, does it?” Arthur grimaced.  
  
“I mean, it’s nice how he cares about his daughter.” Merlin explained.  
  
A dinner was served and after eating it in silence, they spend some time listening to promotion of the causes of the fundraiser. Neither Bayard nor his daughter had returned.  
  
The way home was pretty much the same, Arthur seemed troubled and Merlin could not find a way to restart the conversation. His few feeble attempts were met only with one-syllable replies. When they entered the flat and door closed behind them, Arthur pulled at his bowtie. He loosened it and dropped it on a pile on one of the armchairs together with his jacket. For a moment, he just stood there like that, with his head bent forward.  
  
“You thinkin’ about the fundraiser?” Merlin asked. Arthur sat down on the sofa. “The business went well for you, didn’t it?” Merlin leant against the backrest of the armchair, one arm folded atop of it for support and the other hand he used to emphasize his point with gesture. “Well, let’s look at it. He’s in trouble. You want his company. He doesn’t want to let it go, but still has no other option.” While Merlin talked, Arthur hunched and braced his elbows on his knees. When Merlin finished, he didn’t look any happier than a moment before.  
  
“Thanks for the recap, Merlin.”  
  
Laying his free hand over the one on the backrest, Merlin propped his chin on them.  
  
“The problem is, I think, that you don’t like it either. You don’t think that what you do is right.” Merlin got to the core. Arthur pushed himself upright and flopped back against the sofa.  
  
“The truth is, it doesn’t matter whether I like it or not. I will not let myself get emotionally involved in business.”  
  
“I know. Gwaine’s always telling me ‘Don’t get emotional, when you’re on the job.’ That’s why no kissing. It’s too personal.” Merlin straightened up and started pacing. “It’s like what you’re saying: you stay numb, you don’t get involved.” He pondered. “When I’m with a guy, I’m like a robot. I just do it. Think about some nice hot guy from a TV.” Merlin stopped dead in his tracks and looked at Arthur. “I mean… except with you.”  
  
“Oh, of course. Not with me.” Arthur replied with sarcasm, but Merlin was honest with him. However, there was no way to prove it. “You and I are somewhat similar, Merlin. We both do what we have to to get where we want to be, no matter what it is.”  
  
Merlin sat down across from Arthur. He remembered the scene at the fundraiser.  
  
“I was sorry to hear about your father. When did he die?”  
  
“Last year.”  
  
“Do you miss him?”  
  
Arthur’s look lost its focus as he thought about the question. “Yes, I do.”  
  
“Do you want to talk about this?” Merlin asked him pre-emptively.  
  
Arthur looked at him questioningly. “Do I look like it?”  
  
Merlin briefly assessed Arthur’s expression and admitted. “No, I guess not.” Arthur repaid that with ‘pleasantly surprised’ oh-you-noticed sarcastic look.  
  
“I’ll tell you what. I’ve got an idea. What do you need is a massage and I’m going to give you one. And then we’ll watch movies all night.”  
  
“So now you’re a masseur, too?” Arthur asked sceptically.  
  
“I said I do everything.” Merlin grinned, but Arthur did not jump in for the offer.  
  
“What about you watch the movies by yourself? We’ll do the massage tomorrow.” Arthur stood up. “I’ll be upstairs.” He said and left.  
  
Merlin sensed that what Arthur actually meant was that he needed some time alone, so he got comfortable on the sofa and turned a TV on.  
  
Later that night, Merlin jerked up from a slumber to see credits of the movie he tried to follow for the better part of it, but that turned out to be kind of dull. Merlin must have fallen asleep; he was probably more tired than he thought. Now, though, he started to worry whether it was a right decision to let Arthur to be by himself, when he was in such a mood. Was he expected to follow him? Merlin knew very little about who Arthur was and what he needed. Maybe he was just as tired as Merlin and was sleeping already.  
  
Merlin turned the TV off and rose from the sofa. He took the stairs to first floor. As he reached the top, he could hear Arthur wasn’t asleep just yet. Soft tones of guitar strings crept out of the door Arthur has left ajar. Merlin opened it slowly and peeked in. Arthur was sitting on the bed, his head bent slightly forward as he watched his fingers slide over the strings. Merlin opened the door a bit more and Arthur snapped his head up to look at him.  
  
“I didn’t know you played.” Merlin offered.  
  
“I don’t. Not since I was at high school, anyway.” Arthur put the guitar aside.  
  
“You were quite good, though.” Merlin came closer to him, already a little bit regretful that he couldn’t listen to more of Arthur’s playing.  
  
Arthur raised his hands and rested them on Merlin’s hips and Merlin understood that there shall not be any more talking that night. He straddled Arthur’s lap and Arthur reached for his lips, trying to kiss him. Merlin almost gave in but dodged it at the last moment. He already had a soft spot for Arthur, breaking his own rules and getting even more involved wouldn’t had been wise. Arthur tried once more, but when Merlin didn’t budge, he started to nibble at his neck, pulling Merlin’s hips against his own. Arthur was getting better and better in it and a helpless moan escaped Merlin’s mouth. At that Arthur stopped to divest Merlin of his shirt. Then he rolled them over, laying Merlin on the bed sheets. It was a matter of seconds before he had Merlin fully naked and splayed out for him. Merlin let Arthur do whatever he wanted. He knew that sometimes people wanted – needed – just that. And Arthur rewarded him by a long attentive care that made him come harder than he did in longer time than he dared to remember.  
  
That night Merlin fell asleep with the notion that Arthur was too good to be true.  
  
/  
  
“What’s this? Are you some kind of pervert?!” Merlin was woken by outraged demands of his employer. Arthur stood above the bed, holding one of the few things Merlin brought from his flat and looked like he might have a stroke at any moment.


	10. Arthur

Arthur couldn’t tear his eyes away from Merlin. Merlin was handsome when they met, very attractive whenever he smiled and beautiful when naked, but now… Now he was breath-taking. Unlike his original clothes, the suit brought out his great figure in unobtrusive way. And together with the short haircut it gave him an aura of superior effortless elegance.  
  
When they were in the car, Merlin asked him, indicating towards Elyan.  
  
“He’s your personal driver?” Merlin tried to whisper, but Arthur was pretty sure Elyan could hear it, too.  
  
“Elyan works for the company. So, no, he is not my personal driver. I just use his service.” Arthur replied in normal voice for Elyan’s benefit.  
  
“Every day.” Merlin muttered and Arthur couldn’t believe his ears.  
  
“I let you know I have my own car, but neither you nor I are driving tonight.” He explained patiently. Why did he have to defend himself in front of Merlin of all the people? Fortunately, after that there were no more comments from Merlin’s side.  
  
/  
  
The evening didn’t go down the way Arthur imagined. Then again, he wasn’t sure what he expected really. He hoped for Bayard to see the man he was, or tried to be, and do this the easy, pleasant way. However, Arthur’s father’s reputation prevented that. It’s been a long time since Arthur learnt not everyone saw Uther as such honourable man as his young naïve son once did. Now his father was gone, but his father’s ghost seemed to be still looming over him.  
  
Everything started perfectly. Despite Arthur’s initial delay, they managed to catch up and arrive to the fundraiser at time. Arthur felt stupidly proud to have Merlin by his side. It was like having an enigmatic rising supermodel with him. Nobody knew him just _yet_. It was exciting to fool the people around. Arthur could see all the looks people sent in their direction and he knew that a fair share of them belonged to Merlin. Merlin Morgan.  
  
Then they were brought to their table and they introduced with Bayard and his daughter Vivian. Merlin was just as charming as Arthur knew he would be. They sat down and Bayard asked the inevitable question.   


“So. What brings you here? Don’t tell me you found a sudden interest in littoral fauna and flora.” Bayard looked sceptic and Arthur couldn’t hold it against him.  
  
“No, but my friend here brought it to my attention lately. It means a lot to Merlin.” Arthur resorted to a lesser lie. When he thought about it before, he didn’t find any better way how to handle Bayard’s suspicion. Arthur didn’t expect Merlin to know anything about environment protection, but when he considered telling him beforehand, he figured it would just make Merlin unnecessarily stressed and twitchy and that would give their act right away.  
  
“Is that so?” Bayard turned to Merlin with interest.  
  
Merlin disarmed him with one of his charming smiles.  
  
“Yes, it is.” He said seriously. If he could, Arthur would kiss him right then and there.  
  
Bayard let Merlin off the hook rather easily, when he started to talk about his daughter. And then it was a conversation between Arthur and Bayard, with occasional interception from Bayard’s daughter. At the end, Vivian excused herself and Bayard followed her. Arthur regretted the outcome, yet Merlin was dashing and sitting by his side. They could still enjoy the dinner, but the sharp conversation that nearly escalated into a quarrel left a sour aftertaste. Arthur lost his appetite and would like to leave right after Bayard did, but the dinner was the least he owed to Merlin after what he put him through.  
  
They stayed for the dinner and for the promotion, but Arthur couldn’t bring himself to maintain a conversation. What little hope he had, for Bayard or Vivian to return and set things right, left him as the time ticked by. In the end, Arthur gave up and let Elyan take them back.  
  
/  
  
With his dream of enjoyable evening ruined, Arthur discarded his bowtie and jacket right after they got to Morgana’s apartment. He was disappointed with himself and his inability to take his failure with grace. He hated that his uncle was right and he did not achieve anything. It was even possible he put Pendragon Hotels in a risky position when revealing their intentions. For a moment, he felt his father’s eyes on him again, accusing and unforgiving. Now there was no-one to judge him and yet – he still felt like a silly disobedient child. He felt defeated and he hated his father for it. And maybe he hated himself even more.  
  
“You thinkin’ about the fundraiser?” Merlin interrupted his train of thoughts. Arthur sat down on the sofa. “The business went well for you, didn’t it?” Merlin went on and leant against the backrest of the armchair to face Arthur. “Well, let’s look at it.” Merlin started with his recollection of the evening conversation, completing his mental list with waving of his hand. “He’s in trouble. You want his company. He doesn’t want to let it go, but still has no other option.” Actually, that was quite accurate, Arthur thought and sunk down, bracing his elbows on his knees.  
  
“Thanks for the recap, Merlin.” Arthur couldn’t refrain from replying with a sarcastic remark, the last sparks of fight flaring up in him. Merlin propped his chin on his hands and fixed his eyes on Arthur.  
  
“The problem is, I think, that you don’t like it either. You don’t think that what you do is right.” Oh, sweet Jesus. Was Merlin about to get all moralistic on him? Arthur tried to find a better resting position in the cushions of the sofa, suddenly feeling too tired to stay upright, while having this conversation.  
  
“The truth is, it doesn’t matter whether I like it or not. I will not let myself get emotionally involved in business.” Arthur explained and watched Merlin to spring up with sudden energy.  
  
“I know. Gwaine’s always telling me ‘Don’t get emotional, when you’re on the job.’ That’s why no kissing. It’s too personal.” Merlin agreed. He started pacing. “It’s like what you’re saying: you stay numb, you don’t get involved.” He paused before he continued. “When I’m with a guy, I’m like a robot. I just do it. Think about some nice hot guy from a TV.” Suddenly, it had to click and Merlin froze mid-step. He turned to look at Arthur. “I mean… except with you.” He tried to lie his way out after the milk was already spilt.  
  
“Oh, of course. Not with me.” Merlin was really amusing him. Then another thought crossed Arthur’s mind. “You and I are somewhat similar, Merlin. We both do what we have to to get where we want to be, no matter what it is.”  
  
Merlin sat down on the armchair.  
  
“I was sorry to hear about your father.” He said. “When did he die?” Arthur almost forgot that they talked about him at the fundraiser.  
  
“Last year.” He answered mechanically. Arthur surmised that was the end of that conversation, but Merlin surprised him with next question.  
  
“Do you miss him?” That had to be absolutely ordinary question for Merlin, but Arthur wasn’t used to people asking about his feelings. Now, did he miss his father? Uther was very difficult person to deal with, but Arthur was his son and he knew him better than anyone. He understood his father now, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept his choices. Arthur was swayed between love and hate to his father for many years – so much that he thought he should feel free and relieved when his father died, but all he felt was emptiness. It took him this whole year to stop blaming himself for his inability to find a way to his father during all those years. Still, he wished he did find it.  
  
Arthur glanced back at Merlin. “Yes, I do.”  
  
“Do you want to talk about this?” Merlin asked after it became clear that it was all Arthur had to say.  
  
Arthur glared back. “Do I look like it?” Merlin already asked him one too many uncomfortable questions tonight.  
  
Merlin looked at Arthur for a split of a second. “No, I guess not.” Arthur repaid him with mockingly impressed face. Merlin wasn’t bothered by it, though, and he offered Arthur relaxing massage instead.  
  
“And then we’ll watch movies all night.” He added enthusiastically.  
  
“So now you’re a masseur, too?” Arthur asked bitingly, without much thought.  
  
“I said I do everything.” Merlin showed him one of his amazing white-teeth grins that lit his whole face. Watching him with keen eyes, Arthur gave it a serious thought before he dismissed it. What he needed was to think about what he actually wanted – and that didn’t comprise only of one, albeit very attractive, boy.  
  
“What about you watch the movies by yourself? We’ll do the massage tomorrow.” Arthur suggested as he stood up. “I’ll be upstairs.” He left and Merlin didn’t follow, even though Arthur half expected him to try.  
  
/  
  
On his way up the stairs, Arthur’s look fell on door to Morgana’s room. Had she been here, she would know how to put him straight. Albeit Arthur did not approve of a way Morgana behaved and a life she led, sometimes, he wished he possessed some of her traits. She always knew what she wanted and never doubted herself and her decisions. She didn’t let others to dictate her whom she should be.  
  
With a sigh, Arthur opened a door to Morgana’s room. In contrast to the guest room, his sister’s room was littered with small reminders of her personality. There was a vanity table with some cosmetics left in disarray on its top, a chair pushed half away, a scarf hanging over a backrest. A neatly made bed was decorated with oriental cushions and next to it… Arthur’s look fell on an acoustic guitar, his acoustic guitar. When he left to university, he didn’t take it with him. Morgana appropriated it and learn to play better than Arthur ever did.  
  
Arthur came closer and took the instrument in his hands, his fingers sliding over the polished wood, admiring a rosette inlay around the sound hole. He still liked it as much as he did the day he bought it. It seemed wrong to wrinkle Morgana’s sheets by sitting on them, so he took the guitar to the next room. There he sat at the feet of the bed and let the body of the guitar rest on his thigh. It was a strange sensation to lay his hands on the strings again, yet his fingers automatically found the right position, hovering, before he chose a chord.  
  
One chord flowed into another and the next and the sound slowly started to take on a melody of long forgotten song Arthur used to play in the days he was still a high school student. He lost a sense of time, not knowing how long he played, when he registered a motion and looked up to see Merlin in the door.  
  
“I didn’t know you played.” Merlin said softly, an apology for disturbing written in his face.  
  
“I don’t.” Arthur repelled his false presumption. “Not since I was at high school, anyway.” He added with a shame hot in his chest as he put the guitar aside.  
  
“You were quite good, though.” Merlin countered, encouraging him. He came closer in an intimate way a lover would and Arthur raised his hands to rest them on Merlin’s hips. Merlin wordlessly straddled Arthur’s lap and Arthur felt a dizzying wave of want, same parts a physical need and a matter of heart. Thirsty for the intimate contact, he reached for Merlin’s lips, trying to kiss him. Merlin eluded him, though. Arthur tried once more, but when Merlin didn’t yield, he didn’t force him. Instead, he found his neck to taste while peppering it with kisses. He pulled Merlin’s hips against his own. A shiver ran down his spine, when he heard Merlin’s helpless moan. They got to the point where there were too many clothes on them obstructing further advancement. Arthur paused to get rid of Merlin’s shirt, his fingers urgently plucking at the rest of buttons that held Merlin’s shirt in place. Merlin wasn’t a muscly type, his chest was a little hollow under the prominent clavicles, yet for his pale skin he reminded Arthur of antic sculptures and their eternal beauty.  
  
Arthur didn’t waste time and rolled them over, laying Merlin on the bed and divesting him of the rest of his clothing. He never thought of male body this way and there it was, nature’s masterpiece hidden under clothes of an indigent rent boy - or this time under an expensive shirt Arthur made him buy and wear. Feeling a trill at being allowed to touch it, Arthur let himself to feel the skin that was, unlike the dead marble of antic sculptures, warm and pliant. His hands slid up and down the planes and curves of the boy’s body. Merlin wasn’t an object. He was living and breathing, a person with his own feelings and desires. However, at this moment he let Arthur to fulfil his own, giving his body at Arthur’s mercy. All Arthur wanted was for Merlin to bask in his attention. Together, they could forget who they were and who they were supposed to be. Just then, they were a ceramist and a precious vase, each careful, loving touch giving it its shape.  
  
/  
  
Habit is a second nature. It made Arthur to wake up at his usual hour despite ever deepening lack of sleep. Arthur rubbed his eyes and sat up. Reluctantly, he left warmth of the bed sheets. They were crumpled and smelled of sex. Arthur smelled of sex. He needed a shower. He looked at Merlin, obliviously sprawled on the bed, and smiled. When did this happen? Arthur actually enjoyed waking up next to a boy, a boy he barely knew and of questionable working history at a top of that. Arthur grunted, unsettled by the fact that he couldn’t help the feeling of contentment that spread through his mind when his look fell on Merlin tangled in the sheets of his bed. To avoid the heavy thinking at the start of the morning, Arthur dragged himself into a bathroom. When he washed and turned the water cool to wake him up, he missed the pool he had nearby his own apartment and which he frequently used before he set off for work.  
  
After he got back from the bathroom, quietly to not disturb Merlin, he put a fresh shirt and pants on. As he went about his accessories, buttoning up his shirt, Arthur came upon a pile of things that weren’t his and certainly did not belong to Morgana, either. Confused, he lifted a piece of purple cloth and his face stretched in an incredulous and scandalized grin, when he realized it was a male thong. He felt a little guilty for prying, but it was Merlin who left his things openly at view. With wide smile still on his lips, Arthur examined few more pieces of Merlin’s underwear, a bottle of lubrication gel that must have been Merlin’s favourite, since he brought it despite already available supply, a cosmetic product for styling hair and a cheap MP3 player. Arthur checked the music list on the player – a mix of radio hits from last thirty years. Small tube with guarana pills. Underneath all those Arthur found a book. It was large and thick, which wouldn’t be much disturbing, if the cover didn’t read Anatomy of the Human Body. Well, maybe Merlin was serious about the masseur deal. Arthur’s face lost its amused merriment and turned serious. Intrigued, Arthur opened the nearly-tome, flipping through the pages apprehensively. Images of body parts dissected to reveal muscles and veins assailed him. As his eyes flitted over descriptions of bones, tendons and nerves, written in italics, criminal scenes from films about serial killers came to the forefront of his mind. His breath stuttered and he felt suddenly sick at his stomach. Could it be real? That’s stupid, Arthur thought and looked over at Merlin. Merlin was so sweet, even innocent, as much as a rent boy could be. Then again, killers didn’t wear it written on their foreheads, did they? Was it actually guarana in those tablets? He felt a twinge of uncertainty. Could Merlin be a murderer playing around, pretending to be simple and harmless, before he decided to slaughter him? Was Arthur just a naïve toy? Chill run down his spine. Then why would he bring the book? He needed to know.  
  
Arthur turned towards the sleeping man.  
  
“What’s this? Are you some kind of pervert?!” Arthur stood over Merlin, putting all the menace he learned from his father and years of work as a CEO of a large company into his voice, while he tried to hide a hysterical edge that treacherously crept in it.  
  
“What?!” Merlin looked up at him all bleary-eyed and frowning.  
  
“This book.” Arthur pointed out the incriminating object held up in his hand for the other man to see.  
  
Merlin’s face cleared. “That’s my textbook.” A textbook? Whose? A killer’s? A med student’s? He just tried to imagine it, but both seemed illogical, even ridiculous.  
  
“Oh, don’t you tell me that you are a soon-to-be-doctor who just happens to turn sex into his extra income.” Arthur told him with sarcasm dripping from his words like venom. He saw hurt flash in Merlin’s eyes before he closed up, shutting Arthur out, away from his thoughts and emotions.  
  
“No, you’re right. I’m not.”  
  
That surprised him. Arthur didn’t expect such cold, detached reaction. Therefore, he spoke much softer than he intended, when he said: “So why the hell ‘Anatomy of the Human Body’?”  
  
Merlin looked up again, searching in Arthur’s eyes. He bent his head down in hesitation. A moment passed and then Merlin looked back at Arthur.  
  
“I told you before. I don’t wanna stay stuck like this forever. When I put together enough money I’ll take entrance exams to college to become a nurse. I wasn’t so bad at school, you know?” Merlin told him defensively.  
  
“Oh.” The explanation was so simple that it left Arthur dumbfounded. How could he be so stupid?  
  
“If something’s a matter, just tell me and I’ll be gone. I don’t want any problems.” Merlin seemed regretful, but his words were firm.  
  
“I think you can stay.” Arthur said, still a little dazed.  
  
“Are you sure?” Merlin tried him.  
  
“Yeah… Yes. I’m sure.” Arthur finally put himself together. “For a moment, I thought you might a killer or something.” He half-chuckled at his own silliness and too-wild imagination.  
  
“Do you have a lot of enemies?” Merlin asked matter-of-factly. Arthur shrugged.  
  
“Probably. None that would go so far and try to kill me yet. With my line of profession a certain degree of danger is unavoidable.” He presumed.  
  
“You tell me.” Merlin agreed emphatically as if his remark wasn’t sarcastic at all.  
  
/  
  
Arthur went to deal with the aftermath of last evening’s exchange of views with Bayard, leaving Merlin to his own devices. He decided to take Merlin out for lunch and thought about it as his permit to get some peaceful time during his meal, foreseeing a bad-tempered reaction on a side of his team. He was not wrong with his prediction. Whole morning was suffused with tension and Arthur couldn’t wait to get out of the boardroom.  
  
When the meeting was over, Arthur sent Elyan to pick Merlin up. Arthur himself went through notifications of the day and then he spent twenty minutes by walking in warm air of early afternoon. He ate alone most of the days, but that day he did not want to risk that someone from his colleagues would choose to join him for the meal and use the private setting to express their worries over the new situation he got them into. He pictured the sour looks his uncle would sent his way saying ‘Why you did not listen to me? I told you so.’ and the condescending speech from Geoffrey on theme what Arthur’s father would do had he been alive. Arthur did not need that. He knew he would get Bayard Spa Hotels one way or the other.  
  
/  
  
“Do you really have someone at Department for Culture?”  
  
“Hm.” Arthur was still a little bit absent-minded while waiting for the meal at one of his favourite restaurants. Merlin was sitting across the table and seemed to have excessive energy that Arthur was lacking.  
  
“Is it necessary? To rebuild the hotel? Mr. Bayard seemed to care about it very much.” Merlin agitated for Bayard’s thing.  
  
Arthur looked at his companion. The casual smart style he put together from Arthur’s shirt, skinny jeans and the suit jacket he wore to a fundraiser yesterday fit him well.  
  
“Our customers expect a certain level of comfort. When they choose Pendragon Hotels, they know what kind of facilities they will have the use of. That’s our trademark.” He replied.  
  
“Even if it’s at the expense of the cultural heritage? Do not people appreciate that as well?” Merlin asked, obviously not knowing a thing about hotel industry.  
  
“I won’t discuss this with you.” Arthur cut the conversation. He was tired of opposing and defending his stance the whole day long.  
  
The waitress came just in time to offer another unforced topic. They began to talk about the food and Arthur introduced Merlin into his list of things that made place a good restaurant. He illustrated his lecture with examples from his favourite restaurants. Merlin listened to him with interest, while the lunch was disappearing in him at staggering pace.  
  
“And yet you liked my make-do breakfast.” Merlin said when he finished his meal and wiped his mouth into a napkin.  
  
“Well, you could try a restaurant business, when you are tired with the current one. I’m sure that in time you’d make a fine chef.” Arthur encouraged him.  
  
Merlin made a face. “Been there. Done that. Not for me.”  
  
Arthur couldn’t say a thing against that. He finished his lunch, too, and took a draught from a glass of water. He looked around for a waiter who readily came up to them to present a note. Arthur pulled out his wallet and took care of it.  
  
“Time to shop.” Arthur announced, when they were alone at their table again and took out one of his credit cards.  
  
“Now, if you have any trouble using this card, have them call the Pendragon Hotels main office.”  
  
Merlin did not answer, just looked at the card.  
  
“All right?” Arthur asked him for confirmation that he understood.  
  
“More shopping.” Merlin said instead and it wasn’t in an enthusiastic way Arthur had expected.  
  
“Actually, I'm surprised you didn't buy more clothes yesterday.” He certainly gave him enough money to do so.  
  
“Wasn't as much fun as I thought it was gonna be. They were mean to me.” Merlin finally confessed, bringing to light what caused his distance.  
  
“Mean to you?” Arthur was in shock. He would never imagine something like that to be possible.  
  
After a short thought he pulled out his phone.  
  
“Lance? Reschedule rest of my appointments for today. I’m taking some time off.” Arthur listened to Lancelot’s ‘Sure thing.’ “Thank you.” He replied and hung up.  
  
Merlin seemed to be intrigued, looking as if he didn’t trust what he just heard.  
  
“Let’s go.” He raised Merlin from his stupor as he stood up.  
  
/  
  
“People are looking at me.” Merlin hissed between his teeth.  
  
“No, they’re looking at me.” Arthur corrected him. “Stop fidgeting.” He schooled Merlin when he saw how antsy he was.  
  
“I don’t like it here. These posh stores are not nice to people like me.”  
  
“Stores are never nice to people; they're nice to credit cards.” Arthur shed a light on Merlin’s misapprehension. He chose a place where he bought two suits few months ago, when he had not time for tailoring. He entered the store and went straight to a middle-aged woman behind the counter. Merlin trailed him, his insecurity masked behind a blank face and visible only in a sluggish movement of his body.  
  
“Good afternoon. May I help you?”  
  
“Good afternoon. Who’s the manager?”  
  
“That would be me. My name is Mary Caulfield. Nice to meet you, Mr. - ?”  
  
“Arthur Pendragon.”  
  
“Mr. Pendragon. Is there anything particular you would like to discuss with me?”  
  
“Yes. You see this young gentleman over here.” Arthur stepped to a side to offer a clear sight at Merlin.  
  
“Yes.” The manager confirmed.  
  
“We are going to fully equip his wardrobe. It is very important to me that he feels pampered as much as possible. That’s why we need more personnel helping us. I want you to do for him anything he could only think of.” For a second, the manager lost her countenance, but she got a grip again admirably fast. “And I will tell you why. We're going to be spending an obscene amount of money in here.”  
  
The manager turned to store attendant who came in the middle of their conversation. Like the manager, she wore tailored costume with elegant blouse, her stockings-covered legs sinking into high-heeled court shoes. Until then, she politely waited aside.  
  
„Beatrice, call everyone. Kate and Brian, too.”  
  
When Beatrice left to get her co-workers, Mrs. Caulfield went around the counter and gestured towards comfortably looking armchairs.  
  
“Have a seat, please.” Arthur and Merlin sat down. The manager sat at the edge of cushioned footstool across from them. “Where would you like to start?”  
  
“Suits. “ Arthur decided. “We need more suits. And shirts.” Then they turned to Merlin who just nodded curtly. The manager looked at her quinary army of helpers. Just one nod from their boss and they hurried to pick and bring a multitude of luxurious-looking suits and shirts. The manager stood up and went to pick some finest pieces of accessory – like cuff links and tie clips – that would complete the suit up.  
  
Arthur let Merlin to pick through the presented pieces of clothing, suggesting some only when they especially caught his attention.  
  
“What do you think about this one?” Merlin indicated one of many suits he was offered.  
  
“Go to try it on.” Arthur shrugged. And so Arthur’s personal fashion show started. Arthur thought he would get tired of it pretty soon, but he didn’t. He sipped the coffee some of the attendants readily served them and watched Merlin turning around in all kinds of clothes. Whenever he chose some piece, there was someone with assortment of ties or bow ties that would fit in the combination. Merlin tried hats, he tried coats and even sweaters. Pyjamas. He even tried on some awful knee breeches. And he still looked good. Arthur would swear to God that Merlin looked good in things that were not made for ordinary mortals, just for fashion models – and Merlin, obviously.  
  
Merlin put on another shirt and showed it to Arthur, who shook his head after he assessed it with his critical eye. He expected Merlin to close the curtain before he put on yet another piece. Instead, Merlin undone top three buttons and tugged at the collar to make the tips stand up with lax elegance. He posed as though he was at a shooting for a fashion magazine and questioningly raised an eyebrow at Arthur.  
  
Arthur felt a heat start to rise to his cheeks and pool in his lower abdomen. Before he could get himself into an improper situation, he was saved by his cell phone vibrating in his jacket pocket. With an approving nod towards Merlin, he pulled out the phone and checked the caller ID. It was his uncle, Agravaine. Had it been anybody else, Arthur would turn the call down. This way, however, he felt obliged to answer.  
  
“Uncle.”  
  
“Arthur. Where the hell are you? I just got information that Bayard is going to get a loan.” His uncle was upset.  
  
“What? From who?” A doubt started to worm its way into Arthur’s confident mind.  
  
“I don’t know yet.”  
  
“Find out who it is.” Arthur instructed Agravaine with calm urgency.  
  
“We’re working on it.”  
  
Arthur would love to ogle Merlin some more, but the news about Bayard he just got changed everything. He had to go and fix it. He stood up.  
  
“You're on your own. I have to go back to work. You look great!” He winked at Merlin when he showed up in the fitting room again.  
  
“He has my card.” Arthur told the manager on his way out.  
  
“And we'll help him use it, sir.” The manager assured him.  
  
/  
  
Arthur hopped on the taxi and half an hour later he was walking up to the building, where Pendragon Hotels had its headquarters. When he entered the lawyer office, his uncle Agravaine was just speaking on a phone with someone. When he noticed Arthur, he hurried up to end the conversation and hung up.  
  
“Arthur.”  
  
“What you’ve got?” Arthur skipped to the core as usual.  
  
“I’ve got a word that Bayard’s daughter persuaded her fiancé to put his stable of purebred as a principal. Bayard mortgaged everything he owns, right down to his underwear, to secure a loan from the bank.”  
  
“And the bank?”  
  
“It’s Barclays.”  
  
_‘Barclays.’_ That meant Arthur could have a word in it, if he wanted to. He could keep Bayard at bay.  
“Are you going now? Or will you deal with it over the phone?” Agravaine asked him as if it was a done deal. He meant whether Arthur would visit the bank’s headquarters personally or if he would just make a call.  
  
“Hm.” Arthur pondered what he should do.  
  
“Arthur, excuse me for saying this, but what the hell is wrong with you this week? Are you givin' Bayard a chance to get away?”  
  
This deal was important. It was not like any other investment. They had searched specifically for a location that would fit their demands; that would bring them on a market of coastal vacation spots. The complex was supposed to get sold for very lucrative prize and they planned to build a new business strategy on this kind of a place. Therefore, Arthur understood why his uncle put so much weight on this matter and why Arthur needed to follow through with it. And still…  
  
“You know what I used to love when I was traveling around Europe with my father, uncle?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“The culture. The old houses and squares, tortuous streets.”  
  
“So, I like foreign restaurants. What's the point you’re getting at?”  
  
“We assimilate. We tear the buildings down and build new ones, with uniform architecture, uniform design.”  
  
“That’s what made your family wealthy, Arthur.” Agravaine pointed out. “We worked for a year on this deal. It's what you said you wanted. I'm handing it to you. Bayard's jugular is exposed. Let's finish this. Call the bank!” He pushed Arthur further, permitting no space for hesitation.  
  
Arthur picked up the phone.  
  
/  
  
“How was your day, Cinderella? Ready to turn into a princess?” Arthur asked from the door, ever ready to poke fun at Merlin. The call to Barclays went well. Pendragon Hotels were much more important client than Bayard and it did not take long for the bank to decide where their priority lay. He also managed to arrange a meeting with Patricia Anders. All bases should be covered by tomorrow.  
  
Arthur walked further into the maisonette and then he saw him. Merlin sat in one of the armchairs turned away from the door. Cold light from a street mingled with warm one from a table lamp on Merlin’s bare skin. He was naked, except for trainer socks and leather Oxford shoes on his crossed legs’ feet and remarkable watch glinting at his wrist.  
  
“Nice watch.” Arthur commented, his heart already hammering against his ribcage.  
  
“I got it for you.” 


	11. Merlin

Merlin surely did not expect everything to work like a charm for the whole week. On the other hand, being woken up by shouting Arthur who asked some nonsensical questions and demanded his answer, wasn’t a thing Merlin could foresee.  
  
_‘Oh, Christ!’_ Why had Arthur to be so loud?  
  
“What?!” Merlin tried his best to force his heavy eyelids to cooperate and stay open even though his eyes hurt.  
  
“This book.” Arthur shoved a voluminous book into his face. He sounded very agitated. Merlin’s eyes finally focused to discover the book was his anatomy textbook.  
  
“That’s my textbook.” Merlin said simply. He couldn’t fathom what was the deal with it.  
  
“Oh, don’t you tell me that you are a soon-to-be-doctor who just happens to turn sex into his extra income.” Arthur teased him acidly. That was a low blow. Of course, Merlin wished to be a medical student – even a one who turned sex into his extra income – but he was not.  
  
“No, you’re right. I’m not.” Merlin said, because no matter how it hurt, it was true.  
  
Arthur’s face changed from arrogant anger into something akin to uncertainty. He spoke a little softer, when he said: “So why the hell ‘Anatomy of the Human Body’?”  
  
Merlin looked into Arthur’s eyes. There were two ways to explain it. A simple one that would make Merlin probably feel better but won’t help him one bit and a hard one that would make Arthur understand. He bent his head down. The hard way was so hard because it hurt his pride. He could have done so much better. Merlin looked back at Arthur and he knew – this self-centred prat was worth the embarrassment.  
  
So Merlin told him. He told Arthur that he didn’t want to be a rent boy until the street knocked him down. He had a plan. He was saving money. He wanted to go to a college and become a nurse. It wasn’t a dream job for many people, but Merlin felt it was something that mattered, that was worth doing, if one did it well.  
  
“Oh.” Arthur seemed to be caught off-guard.  
  
“If something’s a matter, just tell me and I’ll be gone. I don’t want any problems.” Merlin decided that they better get things straight between them if this was supposed to work. He didn’t want to lose this opportunity of making easy money without hanging around the streets, but it wasn’t worth the tension if they could not trust each other.  
  
“I think you can stay.” Arthur said eventually.  
  
“Are you sure?”  
  
“Yeah… Yes. I’m sure.” Arthur took a breath. “For a moment, I thought you might a killer or something.” He made an attempt to turn it into a joke by laughing, but the chuckle sounded more like a coughing fit.  
  
_‘A killer? What person would assume someone to be a killer based on ownership of a textbook? ...And a couple of guarana pills?’_ Merlin thought to himself when he saw Arthur to clutch the tube with his guarana tablets. Maybe it might have looked a little ...odd, Merlin admitted. Even suspicious ...if one was paranoid.  
  
“Do you have a lot of enemies?” Merlin asked and Arthur shrugged.  
  
“Probably. None that would go so far and try to kill me yet. With my line of profession a certain degree of danger is unavoidable.” Arthur sighed.  
  
_‘Oh, really? Try to walk streets every night.’_ \- Merlin thought, but he couldn’t hold a grudge against Arthur.  
  
“You tell me.” He agreed instead, because he got it. It sucked to be on alert all the time.  
  
After that Arthur returned to collecting of his belongings. When he was all set, he hurried to leave. At the door he turned to Merlin.  
  
“We’ll meet at lunch. I will send someone to pick you up.”  
  
“Bye.” The door closed with soft click and Merlin was once again left alone in the luxurious apartment in Marylebone.  
  
/  
  
Merlin had nothing to do, really, so he dressed and went to scout the neighbourhood for a place to buy coffee and breakfast. He just put a shirt over his sleeveless top, but it seemed to do the work, because he got no strange looks. Two streets away Merlin found a cosy cafeteria with delicious pastry. As he sat with his stomach full and wonderfully smelling coffee cupped between his palms, he thought how nice it would be if every morning could have been like this. He had time to appreciate the slowly warming fresh air, the sun-flooded street with occasional shadow cast by slowly moving clouds. The street was clean and neat, not like the kind in Merlin’s neighbourhood. People walking by were different, too.  
  
Merlin pulled out his phone and dialled Lancelot’s number.  
  
“Hello, Merlin.” Lance’s pleasant voice came through.  
  
“Hi. Uhm, I’m calling because I wanted to say thank you for yesterday. You have saved me. You really did.” Merlin could not imagine what he would do without Lancelot’s help.  
  
“No problem. Did you enjoy the evening?”  
  
“It’s wasn’t that _bad_.” Merlin smiled.  
  
“I’m glad to hear that.” There was a pause in which neither of them knew what to say. Lancelot was the first to break it. “Can I help you with anything else?”  
  
“No, no.” Merlin ardently opposed. “Once more – I really appreciate your help. Thank you.”  
  
“It’s part of the job.” Lance downplayed Merlin’s praise.  
  
“I’m quite sure it’s not.” Merlin told him wistfully.  
  
“Goodbye, Merlin.” Instead of denial, Lancelot wisely chose to end the conversation where it was.  
  
“Bye.”  
  
Merlin looked out at the street again. He had time to think and plan. If he was going to stay with Arthur for a whole week, he should stock up the apartment with something edible – just in case.  
  
/  
  
Merlin found a grocery shop and brought two bags full of food back to the maisonette. He just put everything in place, when a ring from the door turned his attention. Merlin looked at the display that was connected to the camera at the building entrance door. It was Elyan. _‘The lunch.’_ Merlin pressed the button to speak.  
  
“Hello?” Merlin greeted him nervously.  
  
“Good morning. Mr. Morgan?”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“I am here to pick you up. I shall drive you to a restaurant for a lunch with Mr. Pendragon.” Wasn’t it too soon?  
  
“Yea-Yes. I’ll be there in a minute.” Merlin must have lost a track of time; it was probably later than he thought.  
  
“I’ll be waiting for you at the basement floor, if that is all right with you.” Merlin wasn’t accustomed to people treating him with such consideration.  
  
“Yeah. Sure.” He stammered, fervently thinking about what to put on. The shirt he used yesterday and took over his top today was all wrinkled and a little smelly, too. It was good enough for local cafeteria and grocery shopping, but Merlin was pretty sure that Arthur would pick some posh restaurant where to have his lunch. He couldn’t just walk in there like that. He went through Arthur’s shirts that Lancelot hung in a wardrobe in a guest room. He tried one on. It wasn’t perfect, but it was still better than getting into his old one. Should he put suit trousers on, too? Merlin was torn by his indecision, when the door intercom rung again. _‘Damn it!’_ Merlin grabbed his jacket and darted out.  
  
/  
  
Elyan welcomed Merlin with a smile. He was handsome young man and Merlin thought that, under different circumstances, he would make a move on him. Right in that moment, though, his well-heeled employer was waiting for him. He got on the limo.  
  
Merlin was correct about Arthur’s choice, because Elyan stopped in front of a posh restaurant. At least it wasn’t the kind where they won’t let you in if you do not have a tie. Merlin mustered up the courage and entered the restaurant.  
  
He stopped just behind the door, looking around for Arthur, but he couldn’t spot him. One of the waiters noticed him and was with him within a second.  
  
“Damn.” Merlin muttered to himself. He was so used to people treating him like a scum that it honestly surprised him when the waiter smiled politely and asked him kindly.  
  
“Good afternoon. Can I help you, sir? Are you looking for someone?”  
  
“I-...” Merlin had to clear his throat before he could continue. “I am looking for Arthur Pendragon.”  
  
“Does he have a reservation?” The waiter inquired.  
  
“Hm. Guess so?”  
  
“I will check the table reservation list. Wait a moment, please.” The waiter rolled through labels on his tablet. “Mr. Pendragon isn’t here yet.” He announced as he looked up at Merlin. “Would you like to wait for him at the table?”  
  
/  
  
When Arthur appeared moments later, he looked weary, but his lips bore a genuinely happy smile. Merlin wondered what had tired him in such a short time. He was unusually quiet, too. In his attempt of finding a suitable topic for conversation, Merlin returned in his memory to the fundraiser.  
  
“Do you really have someone at Department for Culture?” He asked Arthur finally after they ordered their meals and silence threatened to stretch once again. It was hard to believe someone would go to such great lengths just to ensure they get the thing they wanted to buy.  
  
“Hm.” Arthur confirmed, still a little bit absent-minded.  
  
Merlin thought about it. Maybe he was tired by doing things he thought he had to do – things that were overboard, questionable, things that hurt other people. Merlin was often tired and disgusted by the line of his ‘work’. But maybe, unlike Merlin, Arthur could change that and all he needed was just a small push.  
  
“Is it necessary? To rebuild the hotel? Mr. Bayard seemed to care about it very much.” Merlin tried to appeal on sympathetic part of Arthur, to reason with him. It would be so much easier if Arthur just thought outside the box. Besides, he felt sincere compassion for the man and his daughter.  
  
Arthur looked at him.  
  
“Our customers expect a certain level of comfort. When they choose Pendragon Hotels, they know what kind of facilities they will have the use of. That’s our trademark.” He explained.  
  
“Even if it’s at the expense of the cultural heritage? Do not people appreciate that as well?” Merlin countered.  
  
“I won’t discuss this with you.” Arthur retorted. Merlin felt chagrined, but he could tell it would be unwise to try to antagonise him. What they shall discuss then? Arthur would hardly appreciate the things Merlin usually talked about with his friends – with the one friend he had – Gwaine.  
  
Fortunately, the waitress brought their meals. At least, the silence wouldn’t be so forced when they ate – that was what Merlin thought. However, eased up by the change, Arthur started to speak about food and places, waxing lyrics about some of his favourite restaurants. It was nice to listen to him. Arthur certainly had a different standard than Merlin, but it was still about nice people and good food. And Merlin understood that.  
  
“And yet you liked my make-do breakfast.” Merlin poked fun at Arthur, when he was done with his meal.  
  
“Well, you could try a restaurant business, when you are tired with the current one. I’m sure that – in time – you’d make a fine chef.” Arthur suggested. It was flattering, but naive.  
  
Merlin remembered his career of dish-washing help. It was easily the most awful working experience he had. Did Arthur really think they let just anybody to the stove, unless it was in a bloody fast-food? “Been there. Done that. Not for me.” Merlin assured him.  
  
Arthur didn’t say anything. Instead, he wiped his mouth and sipped some water. Then he started to turn around to find a waiter already came up to them to give them a note.  
  
When everything was settled and they were alone at their table again, Arthur announced:  
  
“Time to shop.” And he took out one of his credit cards.  
  
_‘More shopping?’_ That was a surprise. Merlin expected Arthur to ask for the kind of services he was usually giving – that was why he took him out for lunch, wasn’t it? He certainly did not expect Arthur to just lunch with him and then ask him to spend more of his money.  
  
“Now, if you have any trouble using this card, have them call the Pendragon Hotels main office.” Arthur went on. Merlin didn’t feel as elated as the first time Arthur told him to buy something to wear with Arthur’s money. It felt more like burden than a privilege this time around.  
  
“All right?” Arthur asked him when Merlin didn’t take the offered card right away.  
  
“More shopping.” Merlin uttered and accepted the card, mulling over how to ask Lancelot for one more favour without being too much of a nuisance. Arthur wondered why Merlin didn’t buy more clothes yesterday and Merlin returned in his memories to the moment he tried to buy something on his own.  
  
“Wasn't as much fun as I thought it was gonna be.” Merlin admitted before he could construct some elaborate lie. “They were mean to me.” He grumbled.  
  
“ _Mean_ to you?” Arthur repeated as if it was something from another realm. When he stopped shaking his head, he took out his cell phone.  
  
“Lance? Reschedule rest of my appointments for today. I’m taking some time off. ...Thank you.”  
  
Did Merlin hear him correctly? Did Arthur just take a half day off to _shop with him_? Merlin couldn’t help it but to feel flattered and a little bit overwhelmed.  
  
“Let’s go.” Arthur prodded him, inciting a mix of excitement and worry within Merlin.  
  
/  
  
Elyan took them to Bond Street where Merlin made his first unsuccessful attempt to buy something suitable for the fundraiser. To Merlin’s relief, Arthur walked past the store he visited the last time. As they walked down the street Merlin noticed two women with shopping bags. They were stealing sideway glances at him and then the brunette leant towards the blond and whispered something to her. The other pursed her lips and shrugged. Her friend tried to hide an amused smile, but she did not quite manage. Merlin tried his best to ignore it, but he noticed even more looks from the people they walked past. They probably asked what someone like Arthur did with someone like Merlin. He didn’t know how but somehow they knew he didn’t belong there.  
  
“People are looking at me.” Merlin tried to keep his voice as low as possible.  
  
“No, they’re looking at me.” Arthur said condescendingly without a beat – like always, completely sure of his standing. “Stop fidgeting.” He added, frowning at Merlin when he turned to him.  
  
“I don’t like it here. These posh stores are not nice to people like me.” Merlin ranted, feeling restlessly, but Arthur had an enlightening lecture for that as well.  
  
“Stores are never nice to people; they're nice to credit cards.” Arthur explained to him. They apparently arrived at their destination, because Arthur directed the last few steps to a door of what looked like expensive designer boutique or a tailor shop and opened the door. Merlin wished he could stay outside, but that would be even more humiliating than to enter, so he followed in Arthur’s steps.  
  
Arthur didn’t waste any time and went straight to a nicely dressed woman behind the counter. Merlin listened to Arthur’s conversation with the manager with increasing feeling he was an object of unsubtle conspiracy.  
  
“You see this young gentleman over here.” Arthur stepped aside and turned to look at Merlin.  
  
“Yes.” The manager confirmed.  
  
“We are going to fully equip his wardrobe. It is very important to me that he feels pampered as much as possible. That’s why we need more personnel helping us. I want you to do for him anything he could only think of. And I will tell you why. We're going to be spending an obscene amount of money in here.”  
  
_‘Is he crazy?’_ Merlin half-expected the manager to laugh at him, but she didn’t seemed to be put out by Arthur’s exaggerating demands. Actually, it worked like a miracle. Arthur waved by his platinum credit card in front of their noses and the store attendants could break their legs for how fast they tried to serve them.  
  
Merlin and Arthur got seated in plush arm-chairs and under the manager’s supervision the helpers hurried to offer them a large palette of luxurious suits and shirts. Even the manager herself went to pick some cuff links and clips. They all patiently waited, smiling, for Merlin to examine and pick what he liked. Their words were full of compliments – “Good choice, sir.”, “That colour would bring out your beautiful eyes.”.  
  
Arthur didn’t talk much. He let Merlin to be at the centre of attention, to choose his own style according to his own taste. Only every now and then, he would bring a good piece Merlin could overlook into his attention.  
  
“What do you think about this one?” Merlin gestured at a grey thinly striped suit. Arthur shrugged.  
  
“Go to try it on.”  
  
Arthur was right. Merlin got up and followed by all-too-nice smiles of the attendants, he hid himself behind a heavy curtain of the fitting room.  
  
At the start, he felt so out of place that he just tried something on and barely lifted his eyes from the floor to look up at Arthur and shrug uncertainly before he closed the curtain again. However, the more clothes he put on and the more thumbs up he got from his sponsor – not to mention the continuous flattery of the store employees – the more comfortable Merlin felt in his own skin.  
  
It was like playing a dress-up. It felt great when Merlin put on clothes he could never afford, knowing he can have them now, he can have them all, if he wished so. The best thing about expensive clothes was that almost everything looked great and nearly everything fitted him perfectly. Whenever he liked something that didn’t fit, there were two tailors – Brian and Kate – who swiftly placed pins to parts that needed an adjustment. Merlin would be lying if he said it wasn’t fun. The most enjoyable part, however, was parading in front of Arthur. Merlin didn’t know exactly when he started to play around, posing like models in men’s fashion magazines. Arthur sat in the armchair and sipped coffee, pretending he was bored to tears, but Merlin could see through his façade. In any case, if Arthur left the choice of clothes on Merlin and was willing to pay for anything Merlin wanted, then he could have left ages ago.  
  
Even though he started with suits, Merlin tried on pretty much everything the store offered. And it offered a lot. Arthur did not protest. After all, it was him who told the manager they were going to fully equip Merlin’s wardrobe. Merlin did a pirouette in long-sleeved satin nightclothes, moon-walked with a Jackson-styled hat, pretended to be a mobster in a long coat… Arthur looked positively mortified when he saw him in knee breeches.  
  
There was another shirt and Merlin didn’t think twice before he pulled it on. When he buttoned it up and fixed the collar it looked a little plain, even boring. However, the cloth it was made from was very comfortable. Merlin drew the curtain aside to subject the piece to Arthur’s critical eye.  
  
Arthur looked at him, in thought for a moment, and then he shook his head in refusal. And Merlin got an idea. With practiced moves he swiftly undone top three buttons of the shirt and turned the collar up. Then he took a posture like the hot guy he saw in the fashion magazine that Gwaine had brought home. He put on a self-assured, cocky expression. It wasn’t exactly a first time he tried this and he hoped it worked. He raised a questioning eyebrow, inviting Arthur to share his thoughts.  
  
Arthur just stared. Merlin faltered. It was only when Arthur took a deep steadying breath that Merlin realized Arthur liked what he saw – he liked it very much. Before any of them could make any move, the moment was ruined by an incoming call to Arthur’s cell phone.  
  
Arthur began to pat down his jacket, conveying his opinion on the shirt through a decisive nod to Merlin. Merlin’s thoughts filled with disappointment as he watched Arthur to check the phone screen and pick the call.  
  
“Uncle.”  
  
_‘Phone calls all the time.’_ Arthur was a busy man. Merlin grabbed the hem of the fitting room curtain and dragged it closed. When he put on another piece – dark blue merino jumper – and opened the curtain again, Arthur was standing. He pulled his hand out of a pocket where he put his phone and smiled at Merlin regretfully.  
  
“You're on your own. I have to go back to work.” He told him then paused, his look raking over Merlin’s body appreciatively. “You look great!” He winked at him. Without a second thought he turned and aimed for the exit.  
  
“He has my card.” Merlin heard Arthur to tell the manager on his way out.  
  
/  
  
_‘All right.’_ Merlin assessed his situation. Arthur was right – he had his card. Merlin didn’t know precisely how much money Arthur had on his account, but he was pretty sure he could buy the whole store if he wanted. And the bootlickers probably sensed it, too. Anyway, Merlin won’t stay for much longer. He will just try few last pieces he had already picked and then he will move on. The over-zealous attention had been nice, but he had enough of it for the day.  
  
Just as he decided to wrap it up, one of the store attendants, Daniel, if Merlin remembered correctly, showed up. He came to present him yet another set of scarves. Merlin might had a kink for that piece of clothing, but he already picked all beautiful ones they had and those Daniel had arranged across his forearm were rather boring. As Merlin’s look slid further down the attendant’s forearm, it stopped at a watch that were fitted around his wrist just beyond the sleeve hem. It was terrific.  
  
“Arthur would love that watch.” Merlin said, strangely sure. He couldn’t take his eyes off the stone-inlaid piece of craftsmanship.  
  
“Where did you get it?” The manager was quick to understand Merlin’s wishes.  
  
“It’s from Davis & Pierce.” The attendant replied, rather dismayed. The manager turned to her snobbishly posing assistant. Merlin didn’t like that one.  
  
“Beatrice, call there and make sure that a same model of watch is sent together with the fitted clothes.” While Daniel left to share necessary information, she inclined her head as she turned back to Merlin. “As a gift from us.” She smiled an elegant little smile that Merlin linked with people who had to had a school of etiquette.  
  
“Arthur will go crazy about it.” Merlin beamed.  
  
The payment proceeded flawlessly, even though Merlin started to question reasonability of such purchase when he saw the digits of the final sum. It was more than Arthur paid him and if he got to keep the things as Arthur promised, it made the total expense on him more than double. On the other hand, Arthur didn’t set a limit. If he changed his mind, he could always return the goods and get the money back.  
  
“Thank you for your purchase. We hope to see you again in the future.” The manager offered as a parting.  
  
“Pleasure’s at my side.” Merlin tried to refine his manners. “Just one more thing… Could you recommend me a shop with shoes?”  
  
/  
  
On his way to the shoe store – Merlin declined a taxi call offer since it was just down the street – he stopped at the threshold of the shop he had been to the previous day. Boosted by the clothes he had on and the wholly different approach in the other store, he walked in.  
  
“May I help you?” A shop attendant smiled at him sleazily. It was the same one who kicked him out yesterday.  
  
“Uhm, no. Thank you.” Merlin turned to the woman who stood behind the counter, the same one as well. “Hi.” He waved at her with the hand that wasn’t weighted down by multiple shopping bags. Then his attention focused on the attendant again.  
  
“Do you remember me?” Merlin asked sweetly. The attendant lost his footing, trying hard to make the best impression he weighted his next words, but Merlin beat him to it. “I was in here yesterday. You wouldn't wait on me.”  
  
“Oh.” The attendant stammered as his memory caught on and the realization dawned on him.  
  
“You work on commission, right?” Merlin continued merrily.  
  
“Uh, yes.” The unhappy employee admitted.  
  
Merlin shrugged, smiling gleefully.  
  
“Big mistake. Big. Huuuge!” He enjoyed the perplexed face he got in return. “I have to go shopping now.” He announced and walked off.  
  
/  
  
The rest of the day was rather uneventful. In the last shop, the personnel were nice but did not go overboard like in the one where Merlin shopped for clothes with Arthur. He bought few pairs of formal shoes and one pair of sports slip-ons. Later in the afternoon a messenger stopped by the apartment and Merlin received a heap of clothes and a small box that turned out to be hiding the longed-for watch. He took his time preparing for Arthur as a thank you for the indulgence.  
  
When he finally heard the door open and Arthur stepped in, Merlin barely breathed for his anticipation of things to come.  
  
“How was your day, Cinderella? Ready to turn into a princess?” Arthur asked from the door, unaware of Merlin’s position on the armchair that hid him from direct sight.  
  
Merlin stayed quiet. He heard Arthur’s soft footfalls as he walked further in search of Merlin. And then he appeared few steps to his side. Arthur’s eyes found him and Merlin held his look. His pose was one deliberately chosen to have an effect Merlin desired.  
  
“Nice watch.” Arthur said as he catalogued Merlin’s state of undress, noting the shoes and the watch to be the only things his intimate entertainer had deemed eligible to wear.  
  
“I got it for you.” Merlin let him know.  
  
Arthur’s lips parted as if he wanted to say something and then settled into small smile, his eyes shining with pleasure and joy. A moment of hesitance passed and Arthur shrugged off his jacket, lowering himself to his knees in front of Merlin.  
  
With back of his fingers he slowly trailed skin on Merlin’s leg. He started from the ankle propped against a knee and lifted his eyes to watch Merlin as his hand reached the knee and then slowly travelled up Merlin’s thigh. His look was full of intense attention, curious, mischievous. It was that vibe that emanated from Arthur that made Merlin shiver, sending goose-bumps all over his body.  
  
Merlin waited for Arthur to continue, to lean in, to move his hand further, to… However, Arthur obviously decided to torment Merlin just for fun.  
  
_‘Prat!’_ When Merlin realized what was going on, he felt like whacking Arthur over his head or shoving him away with foot into the stomach for the teasing. The glint in Arthur’s eyes made him so mad and at the same time unbelievably hot. Merlin did not wait any longer and lunged himself at Arthur.   


Merlin did not care for Arthur’s clothes. He clutched at him like he was the only well in a desert. He couldn’t quite get enough of Arthur and he did not need to play that. It was true. His hands were raking all over Arthur’s body, his mouth wreaking havoc everywhere it got. Playfully biting into Arthur’s shoulder, Merlin’s teeth pressed lightly against strong muscles and tendons, his lips tasting the warmth that radiated through the cotton of Arthur’s shirt. He could barely breathe for all the pent up energy in his body. His fingers dug into Arthur’s back. He was straining to keep his own strength at bay. Merlin might have been a bit more passionate, but he was quite sure Arthur wouldn’t appreciate it if he got hurt.  
  
If Arthur’s heavy breathing was anything to go by, he enjoyed this make-out as much as Merlin did. When they parted to get some air, Arthur pulled Merlin onto his lap. He underestimated Merlin’s weight, though, and with Merlin’s enthusiastic help they toppled over into a heap on a floor. It wasn’t a hard crush, but they managed a solid thud with their joined weights. Merlin found his whereabouts and lifted himself on his hands, his lower body still resting on Arthur’s. For a while, they regarded each other with a mixture of surprize and embarrassment. This was ridiculous. A grin started to tug at corners of Merlin’s mouth. All of a sudden, Arthur burst out into hearty laughter, his eyes closing as he tipped his head back. Merlin let go, his own laughter joining in.  
  
When their laughter subdued into a chuckle, Merlin rolled off, splaying himself next to Arthur. He looked at the ceiling with vague notion that he’s never been happier before, the image of Arthur laughing still vivid in the forefront of his mind. Merlin took a deep breath. In his peripheral vision he saw Arthur stand up. A moment later, Arthur was hovering above him, his hand outstretched in invitation. Merlin smiled. He took the offered hand and let himself to be hauled up. Once they both stood, some kind of force, not dissimilar to that of two magnets, pulled them close together again.  
  
“I’d like to-“ Arthur started and stopped. “Do you like-“ He tried again, but couldn’t get the words out. He bit his lip. Merlin backed away a bit to see Arthur’s face.  
  
“What is it? You don’t have to be shy with _me_.” Some of the amusement he felt seeped into his voice.  
  
Arthur reached out, pulling Merlin close, his hand slid down Merlin’s buttock, his fingers finding a space between the cheeks.  
  
“I see. I’d like that very much.”   


It wasn’t hard to tell that Arthur was a little freaked out once they got around to actually do what he had suggested. Merlin had a few “sessions” with unexperienced people before. He tried to project calmness and took things slow – to his own benefit as much as to Arthur’s.  
  
“Would you mind?” Merlin asked quietly.  
  
“No. Sure.” It seemed it took an effort for Arthur to find his speech again. Slowly, Merlin took his hand and guided Arthur’s fingers to replace his own. He made sure to let Arthur know he liked his attention. It did not take much time, with Merlin doing that almost every day. And when he was prepared, he led Arthur through the next step.  
  
Arthur did not last long, but his flushed face and lithe body made up for it. It didn’t hurt he was rather well-equipped, either. Merlin knew how to rein in his arousal as well as he knew how to speed things up when it was desirable. And he knew that such things needed some practice.   


Afterwards, Arthur dragged Merlin to the main bathroom. It was huge. The middle of the marble-tiled space was dominated a big bathtub. Arthur turned the taps on and gestured for Merlin to get in.  
  
Merlin climbed in and rested his back against the warm – _‘Is it heated?’_ – porcelain of the tub.  
  
“Can you light the candles?” Merlin asked when he noticed a number of candles placed around the bathroom.  
  
Arthur cocked an eyebrow at him but said nothing and did as he was bid. When it was done, he turned off the strong main light and joined Merlin.  
  
The water from taps was collected in a small drain and flew into the water mass that was already drawn in the tub almost soundlessly. The room was eerily peaceful, only soft hum of the water running through tubes, occasional splash of water and a sound of their breaths disturbed the silence.  
  
“That’s nice.” Merlin whispered against Arthur’s ear.  
  
“Yes.” Arthur agreed and rested his head on Merlin’s shoulder. Merlin enjoyed the weight of Arthur body pressed flush against his own. Arthur’s hair smelled like summer. The pheromones it exuded made Merlin want to stay like that forever – or, to repeat their previous activities.  
  
He dragged his palms over Arthur’s defined pectorals, wetting them with the process. Arthur let out a low rumble. Merlin could feel it through his chest.  
  
“This is better than any spa I’ve ever been to.”  
  
“I’ve said I’m gonna treat you so nice, you’ll never want to let me go.” Merlin replied smugly.  
  
Arthur let out a non-committal hum.  
  
“Don’t pretend you’re not enjoying my care.” Merlin prodded him. Arthur let out a put-upon sigh in response.  
  
“Have you been to many spas?” Merlin queried.  
  
“I used to travel a lot.”  
  
“What’s changed?”  
  
“My father died. And I became a CEO.”  
  
“Ah.” Merlin murmured apologetically. He did not want to poke nose into things that might have been painful for Arthur.  
  
Arthur lifted his head from Merlin’s shoulder and opened the topic nonetheless.  
  
“My father… He was not easy to get on with. I grew up seeing him as a semi-god, but now I can see he was far from perfect.” Merlin tightened his embrace in sympathy. “But not everybody in the company sees it the same way.”  
  
“Well, you’re the CEO.”  
  
“And the owner. But I need their expertise, their advice.”  
  
“It has to be hard to prove your worth, I take it?”  
  
“When I do something differently than my father would, some of them think I am weak.”  
  
“Doing things the way you think is best is not a weakness.”  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
After a stretch of silence, Arthur picked the conversation up where he left off.  
  
“Mithian said the same.”  
  
“Then she’s a wise woman. Was… Was your break-up rough?”  
  
“No. She just said I did not invest enough of my time into her. I gave a preposterous sum of the money on the wedding preparation – to give her whatever she wanted, spent hours by choosing of this and that and when she said she wanted to end it, I said ‘fine’.” Arthur shook his head like he couldn’t believe he did what he did.  
  
“Well, at least you have me now, for a bargain price of three thousand quids.” Merlin teased.  
  
“That I do.” Arthur chuckled.  
  
/  
  
When Arthur told him they were going on a hunt, Merlin thought he was joking. It turned out Arthur was serious. Merlin did not have clothes for such occasion (How could he think of hunting?), but Arthur thought ahead and told him he secured it for them both.  
  
They got up at wee hours of the morning and Merlin was so sleepy he barely remembered how he got into the car. This time they used Arthur’s own car – which proved Arthur had one – and Arthur was driving it. The car was comfortable, but in no way as outstanding as the one his sister drove. However, Merlin’s brain was to sleep-befuddled to notice more than that it was of white colour.  
  
Merlin thought he would be snoring the moment his head would hit the headrest of the passenger seat. In the end, the awareness of outer world that had sprouted in his mind on the way to a car and that slowly grew from then on kept him awake. As the sky was gaining ever paler hue and eventually sun rose to fill the air with its warm rays and a world with colours, Merlin slowly woke up to full consciousness. It took them some time to negotiate their way out of London, but soon they left the city behind. Arthur stopped at a petrol station then and they bought a breakfast and coffee. Stomach full and coffee-warmed, Merlin sat at the passenger seat and observed the road and the landscape. Arthur wasn’t such a poor driver. Merlin could do better, of course, but Arthur was good enough. The ride was comfortable and Merlin thought he could get used to that.  
  
After some time the main road was replaced by local ones that wound through villages. They travelled amongst fields and small groves and Merlin has already begun wondering how much longer it will take when they finally arrived at a mansion, where Arthur parked the car. There was an adjacent gravel area that was clearly designated for that purpose and the number of arriving cars, filling that space, was multiplying fast.  
  
“Let’s not waste our time, the Meet’s at seven o’clock.” Arthur got out and went straight to the large and heavy main door. Merlin jogged to catch up with him.  
  
Arthur knocked and the door opened to reveal a liveried man in his forties.  
  
“Ernest. Good morning.” Arthur greeted him good-naturedly and a shook a hand with the man.  
  
“Good morning, Mr. Pendragon. It’s been quite some time since you last came to visit.”  
  
“Too busy.” Arthur grimaced, his good mood carried on every word he said. “Meet my friend, Merlin.”  
  
“I’m pleased to meet you, sir.” The man bowed his head respectfully.  
  
“Likewise.” Merlin tried not to let the flattery of such treatment to go to his head as he smiled back at Ernest.  
  
“The hunt is about to start. I shall better take you to a private room and let you change.”  
  
“Thank you, Ernest.” Arthur agreed.  
  
The butler opened the door for them and stepped aside so they could walk in. They were ushered into a foyer and while Ernest was closing the door behind them, Merlin took a look around. The place was stunning. It was not really a surprise to Merlin, still the sight left a deep impression in him. The floor was polished like a mirror of wooden parquet, few Persian carpets shattering the surface and making the place look homey. The room was dominated by spiralling stairway, its railing carved of wood, the stairs covered in soft-looking claret carpet, and in front of it a round table with monumental floral arrangement was stood.  
  
Ernest led them through to one of the side wings until he stopped at one of the wood-panelled door.  
  
“Your hunting outfits are prepared inside.”  
  
/  
  
The room where they were supposed to change was rather small and looked like some kind of resting room. A chaise was pushed against one wall, small rectangular table against the other with two padded chairs flanking it. The room was barely wider than the window framed with heavy curtains. Merlin could see a part of a garden through the panes. He averted his look and appraised the few tranquil paintings hanging over fabric wallpaper, eventually lingering on a gilded mirror above the table. He wondered if that kind of luxury was what Arthur was used to.  
  
Two stacks of perfectly folded clothes were waiting for them on the table. Arthur walked over, lifted a hat that topped it and took one of the stacks. Merlin followed his example and changed into offered shirt and tan breeches, pulling on a pair of high boots that stood prepared under the table. There was some kind of textile band and though it reminded him vaguely of a tie or scarf of sorts, Merlin honestly wasn’t sure where it belonged. He looked at Arthur to take a hint and found him fully dressed in something that had to preserve from a Victorian era. It was almost ridiculous. Arthur looked so distinguished he could be an embodiment of Jane Austen’s novel character. It really did suit him, though.  
  
While Arthur got into his shoes, Merlin returned to the task of tying of the scarf piece, but Arthur’s final product wasn’t of much help in regard of clarifying how to proceed. He checked Arthur once more in a losing battle to ascertain how to tie the thing when Arthur raised his head and caught Merlin ogling him. He smiled that kind of mildly entertained way he often did. Then he walked up to Merlin and took over the task of arranging Merlin’s scarf. Merlin felt inadequate and was really glad Arthur did not make a big deal of it.  
  
Arthur paused for a moment and gazed into Merlin’s eyes. Something flicked over his face and before Merlin could decipher what it meant Arthur leant in and kissed him on the neck. Merlin forgot how to breathe for the briefest of moments before he recovered. Arthur just surprised him – that was all, he assured himself. Was that an invitation to something more? When Arthur picked up the task at hand, though, Merlin stopped himself from following that path.  
  
“Here you go.” Arthur offered with a fleeting smile.  
  
Merlin pulled on his hunting coat and gathered his gloves and, honest to God, a _top hat_.  
  
/  
  
Merlin checked his outfit, the black coat, light-coloured breeches and knee-high black boots. The boots.  
  
“Arthur?”  
  
“Hm?” Arthur checked himself in a mirror. He had the same black coat as Merlin, but his buttons were brass instead of plain black – which was altogether the only difference in their clothes.  
  
“These are spurs, right?” Merlin indicated to the metal forks embracing the heels of his boots. All spurs Merlin ever saw in films had star pieces attached to the protruding part, but these had only short blunt stubs. Arthur finally turned to look at Merlin and then his boots.  
  
“Of course.”  
  
“Does that mean I’ll be riding a horse?” Merlin’s voice was full of suspicion.  
  
“Why are you even asking something like that?” Arthur got exasperated by his query.  
  
“Arthur, I’ve never sat on a horse before.” Merlin shared. “All right, once.” Merlin amended. “At the fair in Ealdor. But that was a pony.”  
  
“Oh…” Arthur hesitated, but then he played it down. “Don’t worry, it’s easy.”  
  
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Merlin disagreed.  
  
“Come on, Merlin. Don’t be such a girl’s petticoat.”  
  
/  
  
The morning air was still fresh and in a vicinity of stables, where they picked their horses up, it smelled of hay, earth and horse dung. The animals were intimidating in their size. Merlin never realized that horses were that big. Arthur had a black horse named Onyx and a grey mare named Pepper had been passed to Merlin.  
  
“Maybe I’d rather join the group that’s going on feet.” Merlin negotiated as he eyed the animal he was supposed to ride. He was permanently checking where he had his feet in position to the heavy hooves. The close proximity made him rather nervous. The horse huffed next to his ear and Merlin nearly jumped out of his skin.  
  
“Nonsense. You are already dressed in rider’s attire. Besides, the foot-followers have already departed.” Arthur discarded his attempts at sensible solution and set off to wherever they were supposed to meet the rest of the hunt riders.  
  
Merlin wasn’t quite sure if he led the horse or vice versa, but it obediently followed Arthur and his Onyx.  
  
_‘This will be interesting.’_ Merlin thought to himself and prayed he would come out of this unharmed.  
  
/  
  
The Meet, as Arthur called it, was held on a large grassy area near the mansion itself. There were about forty people, if Merlin counted right, each one of them holding reins of their own horse. And then there were hounds. Merlin did not bother with counting those, but he had never seen so many dogs at one place. Arthur said hello to a man in a red coat and paid their contribution towards the hunt’s cost.  
  
Everybody got a shot of some kind of stiff drink. After the collective toast, Merlin downed his and only then noted that Arthur barely dipped his lips in his own. Instead of finishing it, he handed the still full shot glass to Merlin. Merlin scowled at it and then raised a questioning eyebrow at Arthur.  
  
“What? I am a driver.” Arthur defended his action with light shrug and almost-not-there shake of his head – like he couldn’t believe Merlin could be that daft.  
  
Merlin sighed and downed Arthur’s share as well. It did nothing good to his ability to blend with a crowd, but at least it bolstered his courage.  
  
/  
  
“Just keep the reins loose.” Arthur explained after he helped Merlin into the saddle. Not even that was as simple as it seemed. With Merlin’s first try, Arthur shouted at him to not pull at the saddle, telling him that he was supposed to merely steady himself through gripping of the pommel. To Merlin’s utmost relief the second try was successful and he was spared further public humiliation. “When you tighten your grip, it spurs the horse to go faster. Don’t worry, your horse would follow the rest.” And with that Arthur spurred his horse on, leaving Merlin on his own.  
  
“Arthur-“ Merlin called to his back, trying in vain to stop him. _‘Right.’_ Riding on horse might have seemed simple to Arthur, but it was an absolute enigma to Merlin. Why could horses not have a steering wheel and pedals like cars?  
  
Before he could decide how to make the horse moving, it started to follow Arthur’s, exactly as he said, and the sudden motion threw Merlin off balance. Fortunately, it wasn’t enough to make him loose his grip and he straightened in time to counterbalance the subtler shifts that followed. After that, Merlin primarily focused on not falling before he got used to the strange rocking motion of the horse back.  
  
/  
  
Once Merlin figured out how to keep him in the saddle and dared to lift his eyes to look around, the trip became nicer if not altogether comfortable. They were riding through remote parts of a country, following headlands and forest trails. The morning sun and clean-swept sky were promising a beautiful day.  
  
When he looked forwards to a line of riders in front of him, he noticed how easily Arthur held himself in the saddle. Riding a horse had to be no more difficult for him than walking. With his back straight and easy smiles he gave away while holding occasional conversation with few other riders, he looked one hundred percent a nobleman. Merlin sighed and almost fell down when the horse stepped into a pothole.  
  
/  
  
They finally got to thin woodland on a mild hillside and met with the group of people that set off to follow the hunt company on their feet. Merlin thought that all would be well then, when his horse, distracted by a momentary pause when the horses got slowed down by the gathering, found some kind of thistle and begun to chew on it. The others moved on, but Merlin’s Pepper showed no interest in following them. Merlin tried tugging the reins, but Pepper ignored him, finding another thistle to have for a snack. He considered using the spurs but dismissed the idea quickly. What if the horse shied and threw Merlin out of its back, or worse stampeded with Merlin still on?  
  
“Come on, Pepper. Let’s go.” Merlin patted the horse in unfruitful attempt to persuade it to obedience.  
  
“You look like someone who’d use some help.” Rich female voice broke off his attempts at persuading the horse to do his bidding. It was familiar. Merlin glanced back to find Vivian, Bayard’s daughter. “Hello.” She offered him a smile.  
  
“Hi. I’m fine. I just kinda… got… stuck here.” Merlin tried to tug the reins once more, but it resulted only in a shift of the muscles beneath his thighs as the horse changed its position to easier reach the grazing. Merlin turned back to Vivian awkwardly. She drew near and took the reins, adeptly pulling at them and forcing the horse to obey her before handing the reins over, both horses slowly moving in the desired direction again.  
  
“Arthur shouldn’t have left you alone.” She said and the smile was replaced by a look of concern supplemented by disapproval.  
  
Merlin opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by another rider who joined them.  
  
“What’s goin’ on, darlin’?” The man was young and charming.  
  
Vivian gave him a radiant smile.  
  
“Merlin’s on hunt for a first time. Am I correct?” She turned to Merlin for confirmation. “I thought he’d use some company.”  
  
“Ah, sure. My name’s David Sheppard.” The man smiled with his eyes.  
  
“Merlin Morgan.” Merlin introduced himself.  
  
“Nice. Let’s get you in on the fun. Would you like to have a try at shooting?”  
  
/  
  
Merlin did not plan on spending the time with Vivian or her fiancé, but he was rather helpless on his own. He couldn’t find Arthur anyway. As it turned out the gathering spot was just the beginning of all sorts of obstacles on their path and he became immensely grateful to have someone by his side who would help him bypass all the places where other riders spurred their horses on and made jumps. Merlin felt foolish for his riding skills or rather a lack thereof. Even a ten-year-old girl (at least that was the age he guessed), who was the youngest participant of the hunt, was better off than he was. She bypassed some of the obstacles, too, but jumped the rest. No feel of solidarity with inexperienced Merlin.  
  
When they got to the place the hunt itself took place, the hounds were dispatched to search for a scent left by the quarry and Merlin wondered with certain degree of apprehension what would come next. He did not discuss this with Arthur, but although he was no big girl’s blouse, he would never kill anything if it wasn’t necessary. He loathed the concept of killing just for fun and wasn’t sure how he would feel witnessing hounds chase some poor animal to death. However, to his utmost relief, when he laid out a careful question, Vivian told him that there was no actual living animal involved in this chase. The hunt was all about a good walk or ride in the country and for some it was about working with the hounds. And while sometimes there was hunting overpopulated rabbits, this was not the case.  
  
“There are no foxhunts anymore.” She said when she saw Merlin to breathe a sigh of relief and cheer up.  
  
“I didn’t know.”  
  
“There doesn’t seem to be much of what you know about hunting at all.” She teased him.  
  
“Well…” He blushed and she laughed.  
  
/  
  
The shooting that David, Vivian’s fiancé, was talking about turned out to be just another pastime, an extra addition to the hunt. As they approached the mansion, Merlin heard an occasional loud banging and later could see a shooting range of sorts with men in livery standing by a rack of shotguns.  
  
David caught him watching.  
  
“What do you say to my earlier proposition? About shooting? Come, you need to try it.” David’s charm and insistence were a disarming combination.  
  
“Well, Arthur’s waiting for me.” Merlin tried feebly.  
  
“I’m quite sure he’ll be busy for a little while yet.” Vivian assured him, still visibly angry with Arthur for leaving Merlin on his own. Merlin felt the same but could not afford to fully yield to that anger. Sulking wasn’t what he was paid for. On the other hand, horse-riding wasn’t either.  
  
“Okay, I'll... Just for a second, though.” He made a concession. He didn’t want to let them down since they were such a nice company to him this whole time.  
  
Vivian took care of the horses, while David brought him over to the shooting range and took care of Merlin’s shooter’s educating.  
  
“Gentlemen?” the steward guarding the set of shotguns invited them to express their wishes in between the deafening blasts of gunfire.  
  
“One will be enough.” David said while he set off his riding helmet, stripped his gloves and took a couple of protective glasses and ear muffs from a nearby stand. He handed one piece of each to Merlin before putting his own on and accepted the shotgun the steward had picked from the rack and passed to him. Merlin followed his example, the coloured plastic painting the world over with yellow tinge and the padded shells of the hearing protection reducing the loud banging to bearable level.  
  
“Birdshots, buckshots or slugs?” The steward asked next.  
  
“Give us twenty light lead slugs.”  
  
“Enjoy the shooting, Sir.” David received two small boxes.  
  
They walked along the railing until they reached an empty spot David chose. He put away the shell boxes and checked the shotgun. He pushed at a lever and broke it down. Taking out two slugs, he loaded the gun. David took a position for shooting.  
  
“Now step away.” He addressed Merlin, who promptly made two steps to a side.  
  
“That’s good. Look. This one’s hammerless so all you need to do is to do is to unlock the gun, aim and pull a trigger.” David followed his own instructions as he spoke and emptied the chambers in a quick sequence. Two loud shots that came with two seconds gap in between left a metallic smell in the air.  
  
“Cease fire!” Someone called out loudly and David locked the shotgun, pointing it to the ground.  
  
“Cold range!” The same voice called and then added: “You may go check your targets.”  
  
Merlin accepted David’s encouragement to follow him to the target. They traversed the grassy field to the wooden stands to which the targets were attached. From up close, they inspected an outcome of David’s round. One hit barely made it to the paper, drilling a hole in its corner, but the other wasn’t so off. Merlin looked up at David who assessed his score with half-hearted interest.  
  
“It shoots a little bit to the left.” He observed. David replaced the target, taking the used one with him when they returned behind the railing.  
  
They waited for the rest of the shooters to come back and another call from the range safety officer. Then David loaded the shotgun again and gave it to Merlin.  
  
“Now it’s your turn.”  
  
Merlin’s heart pounded heavily in his chest when his fingers wrapped around the shotgun. It was heavy in his hands, the metal cold and hard. Apprehension he felt was mixed with excitement, both brought about by knowledge he held an item which sole purpose was to kill. However, this was just shooting at targets, a sport.  
  
“First, don’t point the shotgun anywhere but the target.” David told him and Merlin took a deep breath. “Second rule: always keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready to shoot.” Merlin gave him a short nod to indicate he understood. After that David guided him through the correct stance and holding of the shotgun.  
  
“Fine. You may unlock it and give it a try.” Merlin felt clumsy as he unlocked the shotgun while trying his best to maintain suitable shooting stance. Then he lined the sights and aimed at the top right corner of the target as David instructed him. He breathed out and, heart in his throat and hands sweaty, he pulled the trigger. A load blast echoed through the range while the butt of the gun punched him in a shoulder, the muzzle flying up at the recoil. He did it.  
  
“Try again.” David prompted.  
  
And Merlin did. Now that he knew what to expect it wasn’t so bad. It was fun.  
  
“I’ll show you how to reload.”   


“Don’t squeeze it so hard. Your shoulders are too tense.” David told him when he tried next. Merlin tried his best to relax his shoulders and arms while still supporting a six-pound or so shotgun. David inspected him. “You hunch too much.” Merlin laid the gunshot down to rest his aching muscles before he tried again. David rounded him and pushed at his shoulders to get them into correct position. He made two steps back.  
  
“Go.”  
  
When they checked Merlin’s target he wasn’t hoping in much, since the first time around none of the bullets made it into the target. Therefore, he was exultant when he found out that two of the bullets actually made it into the central part.  
  
“Wow. You lucky boy! Good job.” David awarded him with pursing his lips in appreciative respect. Then he held his hand up for Merlin. “Up high!” A wide grin slipped onto Merlin’s lips and he slapped his palm against David’s.  
  
/  
  
The shooting was fun, but Merlin felt relieved when they finally headed to the mansion and the rest of the guests. He did not want to be spiteful to Arthur even though he deserved a lecture in decent human behaviour. He will make sure to let Arthur know what he thought of it later.  
  
Back at the mansion, refreshments for the participants of the hunt were offered. Laid to cover the tables at the garden terrace with colourful deluge of smells and tastes, all kinds of canapes and nibbles were alternated with slices and chunks of meat, plenty of fresh vegetable and fruit used as their decoration. To call something like this a garden party was an understatement. The only word that came to Merlin’s mind when he took it all in was ‘feast’. Merlin mind wandered from its original aim as he looked around.  
  
“I’ll go to find Vivian. It was a pleasure to meet you, Merlin. Have a nice time.” David parted with him and only then Merlin remembered he was supposed to find Arthur.  
  
It took a while before Merlin caught a sight of the blonde talking to some black-haired huntsman. He walked up to them.  
  
“Oh, Merlin.” Arthur smiled one of his radiant smiles that infallibly warmed Merlin’s core. He turned to the man standing by his side. He was pale and slightly shorter than Arthur. His face looked soft and a bit round, dark eyes two pinpricks under prominent eyebrows. And Merlin assessed him to be in his fifties.  
  
“This is Merlin Morgan, my friend I’ve told you about.” Arthur’s eyes shifted from the man to Merlin and back.  
  
“Agravaine DuBois.” The man preceded Arthur, introducing himself first. “It’s always a pleasure meeting one of Arthur’s friends.” He tilted his head to one side. “Where have the two of you met?”  
  
The question was laid with nonchalance way too careful to be just a friendly inquiry. Merlin thought of few possible answers and then settled on: ”Where have you?” Merlin countered.  
  
Agravaine let out an amused huff and his lips curved into a small smile.  
  
“Arthur’s my nephew.”  
  
“Uncle is Camelot Hotel’s lawyer.” Arthur supplied readily.  
  
“Merlin. Why don’t you go to fetch us some drinks?” He asked in light, kindly suggestive tone without looking at him.  
  
“Sure.” Merlin took his signal and wandered off to the tables and mingling people.  
  
/  
  
Merlin did not forgive Arthur yet, but he was too preoccupied by the ongoing banquet to try to get him aside and reproach him. He searched for the drinks Arthur dispatched him to find and bring back, while helping himself to all kinds of tasty looking food. Merlin wasn’t spoiled and would eat pretty much anything that would stave off hunger but when he was got an opportunity to eat something good, he wouldn’t say ‘no’. Before he could return, balancing two glasses of wine and a glass of sparkling water in his hands, Arthur came to him.  
  
“Having fun?” He asked with a lopsided smile.  
  
“I’ve got you the drink.” Merlin handed him the glass of water.  
  
“Water?” Arthur sounded hurt.  
  
“Well, you’re the driver.” Merlin shrugged and Arthur rolled his eyes.  
  
“Where’s Agr-…”  
  
“Agravaine?” Arthur supplied and Merlin nodded.  
  
“He’s got some pressing business to deal with.”  
  
“Ah.”  
  
“I see you like the nibbles.”  
  
“What?” Merlin asked in dismay. Arthur indicated a spot near corner of his own mouth and Merlin mirrored the motion to find some crème stayed there. “Oh.” He wiped it off, embarrassed beyond belief.  
  
“Shall we get some more?” Arthur suggested merrily.  
  
/  
  
Merlin heard a sound of approaching steps and sensed somebody’s presence before he looked over his shoulder to find Agravaine, Arthur’s uncle. Arthur was currently doing his business in the bathroom and Merlin was left alone. Agravaine held a thick cigar in his hand, taking a pull as he sidled up to Merlin. A dark cloud of smoke left his mouth and nose with escalating speed of his exhalation. His dark eyes darted toward Merlin and then focused at a group of people across the lawn.  
  
“I can’t believe he’s brought you here.” He said as if he was talking about weather.  
  
“Why? Is something wrong with this place?” Merlin chose to interpret Agravaine’s remark the polite way. There was no way this man could know what was between him and Arthur or who Merlin really was, for that matter. He tried to keep his voice light.  
  
“No, not this place. But you…” Agravaine eyed him for a short moment, “You are a rent boy.”  
  
Merlin panicked. How on Earth did he get to that kind of information?! Did anybody else overhear what was just said? He looked around, but nobody seemed to pay attention to their conversation. Merlin’s eyes returned to the sleazy man next to him.  
  
“Arthur’s told me. “Agravaine continued mercilessly.  
  
_‘Arthur?’_ Merlin heart stopped. He tried to wrap his brain around the news. He felt a burn of humiliation eat its way through his stomach like an acid. He couldn’t believe it was Arthur who spread the information about a true nature of their relationship. Merlin had trusted him. And Arthur betrayed that trust.  
  
Agravaine did not seem to care for Merlin’s state of agitation. He was a businessman to a core.  
  
“If this got out, the company stocks would drop down like a stone in the sea – to the bottom. I can see the title in tabloids: ‘Multimillionaire dating a rent boy from a street’. You should think about it – not just about what it would mean for Arthur’s reputation, but about what it would mean for you, personally. Does your mother know?”  
  
If look could kill, Agravaine would be lying on a ground in a pool of blood. Merlin was about to walk away, but Agravaine hand stopped him, holding him in place by a tight grip just above his elbow.  
  
“I can’t say I don’t understand it.” He told Merlin, all too jovial for someone who just made a threat. “Arthur’s just broken up with his fiancée and he needed some distraction. And that’s what you are – a distraction, his sex toy. You should remember that.” He let go of Merlin, smiling insincerely, looking him up and down. “On the other hand, if you open your mouth only for the right reasons...” He gave Merlin a look that gave Merlin a sickly feeling he was just imagined giving a blowjob. “Then I imagine you could find more well-paying customers. When your deal with Arthur’s over, give me a call. Maybe I could give you few contacts to wealthy people that would appreciate your talents.” Agravaine offered generously and Merlin easily deduced what there would be for Agravaine from this arrangement – possible blackmailing of other people. Merlin wouldn’t put it past him. It made him nauseous.  
  
“If you’d excuse me now.” Merlin choked out.  
  
“By all means.”  
  
/  
  
“You all right?”  
  
“I’m fine.” Merlin snapped.  
  
“Fine. That's good.” Arthur nodded his head. “Seven ‘fines’ since we left the hunt.” He pursed his bottom lip in a mock-impressed grimace, before he cut it off with a heavy sigh. “Could I have another word, please?”  
  
“Clotpole.” Merlin supplied.  
  
“Is that even a word? ...Come on, I’m missing your usual prattle.” Arthur goaded him.  
  
“You’re certainly making up for it.” Merlin busied himself by packing, stuffing the few belongings he had around Arthur’s sister’s flat into his drawstring backpack. He hesitated for a second before he started to collect the clothes Arthur sponsored. He said they were Merlin’s after all, didn’t he?  
  
“What are you doing?”  
  
“I’m leaving.”  
  
“What?!Why?” Arthur turned at the spot when Merlin passed him on his hunt for his things.  
  
Merlin halted his rush for a moment to collect his thoughts. His back still to Arthur, he answered.  
  
“Your uncle made me see what your priorities are and what should be mine.” He felt so humiliated.  
  
_‘Does your mother know?’_  
  
“I don’t know what my uncle told you but I’m sure you’re over-reacting. There’s no need to make such a fuss.”  
  
_‘Over-reacting. Sure thing.’_ Merlin felt like crying with frustration. For people like Agravaine and Arthur he was... just a distraction, a sex toy. All right, that’s what he was – but in a bed, at the goddamned loos or even at a murky passage sometimes, but not in front of whole bunch of people who seemed to be distant relatives of a friggin’ royal family! Merlin forced a swallow to get rid of the tightness in his throat. He had to gather all his strength to force next words through his clenched teeth.  
“Just tell me one thing. Why did you take me with you? To the hunt?”  
  
Arthur paused.  
  
“Well, for one thing, I thought you may actually enjoy it.”  
  
Merlin let out a disbelieving huff.  
  
“Me? Enjoy it? What was there to enjoy? Flaunting borrowed clothes? Or the oh-so-easy ride on a horse?” Merlin almost laughed as he tumbled down to the depths of pain. “I don’t know a thing about horses other than when you fall from their back you can actually break your neck. And you-“ He pointed an accusing finger at Arthur, “ _you_ ’ve left me on my own!” But that was not what Merlin wanted to say, wanted to know. “Oh, but you did have fun. How many of them you’ve told, huh? To how many of them I was a jester? Rent boy pretending to be a noble?!” He turned to face Arthur at last, meeting his eyes with his own hard stare. “Next time just let me wear my own clothes, okay? Maybe write a bloody sign!” Merlin was only a breath from outright shouting and his eyes were stinging with pressure that built in his head. He could feel a terrible headache coming up. He had been put down so many times before that he couldn’t even count it and he thought he would be immune to it by now, but it hurt just the same, if not more. Things that had not been an issue for a very long time suddenly mattered again. And all of that was because Merlin thought Arthur to be different. Somehow, in those few days and nights they spent together, he made him believe he cared.  
  
That seemed to push Arthur’s buttons, because he finally caught on. His face flushed, when his anger bubbled to surface, his temperament corresponding to the one of Merlin.  
  
“Are you out of your mind? Do you think I want people to know? Do you really think I would want to be openly associated with a rent boy?”  
  
Of course, he wouldn’t. That would be illogical at best, Merlin thought. However, he didn’t have to tell his uncle, either.  
  
“Oh, I’m sorry. I should have known you’d never. Agravaine told me how your company would wither and die were you ever to be associated with the real me. But you’re lucky I don’t fancy airing my dirty laundry in public, either.” Merlin once again remembered the not-so-subtle threat he was given during the feast following the hunt.  
  
“I'm sorry. I'm not happy with Agravaine at all for saying that. But he is my uncle, my family. He’s trying to protect me. He thought you were some kind of industrial spy.” Arthur lifted his hands into air before letting them fall again.  
  
_‘His sex toy. Remember that.’_ Agravaine’s sleazy voice, addressing him like he was a dog, reminded Merlin how well that one turned out. Arthur ratted him out to someone who didn’t have an ounce of conscience and then shrugged it off like it wasn’t a big deal at all. _‘On the other hand, if you open your mouth only for the right reasons...’_  
  
“Still, that gave no right- I'm not some little toy!” Merlin’s cheeks heated equal parts with shame and fury.  
  
“Look, I know you're not my toy. Merlin! Merlin, I'm speaking to you. Come back here!” Merlin had all he needed or at least what he could think of in his state of mind. He wasn’t about to stay there longer than necessary. ”I hate to point out the obvious, but you are, in fact, a rent boy! And you are my employee!” Arthur shouted after him and followed him down the stairs.  
  
“You don't own me.” Merlin reminded him, when he reached the lower floor. Arthur stopped at the base of the stairs while Merlin continued to the door.  
  
“I refuse to spend the next three days fighting with you. I said I was sorry. I meant it. That's the end of it!” Arthur managed to lower his voice, but the agitation still seeped through each of his words.  
  
_‘Oh. What a generous way to apologize.’_ Merlin thoughts were filled with bleak sarcasm. _‘Asshole!’_  
  
“I'm sorry I ever met you. I'm sorry I ever got into your stupid car!” He said aloud, his voice already trembling with pent-up emotions.  
  
“As if you had so many more appealing options.”  
  
“I've never had anyone make me feel as petty as you did today.” Merlin could barely breathe and his vision blurred as the tears swelled in his eyes. He willed them away, taking a painful breath.  
  
“Somehow, I find that very hard to believe.”  
  
“I want my money. I want to get out of here.” Merlin stopped just in front of the door, petulantly clutching his precious possessions to his chest.  
  
Arthur stared at him like he saw him for the first time. Until then he did not believe Merlin would actually leave. After what felt like an eternity, he bent his head and reached for his laptop briefcase. He took out an envelope and tossed it towards Merlin. He didn’t aimed much and it landed on a floor at Merlin’s feet. Then, without a word or another look, he walked over to the window to stare out of it, waiting for Merlin to collect his money and leave.  
  
Merlin’s eyes shot from Arthur to the fat envelope at his own feet. It lay open, a thick stack of newly printed banknotes clearly visible. His treasure trove; _taunting_ him. All of a sudden, Merlin felt no desire to even touch that money. It was the money that made him a worthless scum in people’s eyes after all. Besides, he didn’t want to feel like he owed Arthur for anything. The deal was that he stays the whole week. He knew he would regret it later, but before he could change his mind, he opened the door and walked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we're halfway through! I hope you like it so far. Kudos and comments apreciated!


	12. Arthur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Since I have some extra free time today I might not have tomorrow, I've decided to post early this week. Hope you like it!

Arthur looked down at Merlin, Merlin who was bearing gifts, both material and of promised pleasures. The moment was meant to be serious, however, with Merlin, things never were. There was just this light trace of humour in his voice, and the way his eyes seemed to laugh even when his lips did not. It made Arthur feel like he was let on some kind of personal joke, something only the two of them understood. With a smile, he realized there were no words needed. For a moment, he just basked in the sight. Then he put away his jacket and dropped to a ground in front of Merlin.  
  
He slowly trailed the skin of Merlin’s leg, his fingers catching on the hair. It felt strange, but also good and exciting in a way unknown sometimes did. Furtively, he looked up at Merlin’s face to observe a reaction his touch caused. Merlin’s lips were parted, his hungry eyes looking straight back to Arthur’s. Arthur’s hand continued its slow travel up Merlin’s thigh. Merlin wanted him. He wanted Merlin. As his fingers reached the point where they could either continue up Merlin’s torso or wrap around his private parts, an idea popped up in his head.  
  
Merlin waited …and waited. Arthur watched his expression morph with the seconds ticking by. First annoyance, hesitation, uncertainty, worry and then Arthur saw realization dawn on Merlin. He had a hard time not to start to laugh, when Merlin opened his mouth in surprised indignation. Arthur loved making out with Merlin, but even more he loved teasing him. His lips barely curled into a smirk when Merlin, all wild, attacked him with his mouth and hands.  
  
Merlin was so fervent that Arthur hardly kept with the pace. It was different from the previous times. It was primal, animalistic, instinctual. And Arthur felt his body response independently on his mind, his breaths became heavy, his heartbeat frantic, blood boiling in his veins. In matter of minutes, he was so hard it ached. When they parted to get some air, Arthur pulled Merlin onto his lap, looking for more. Merlin added an unnecessary push to help and before they knew it, they tumbled down. Arthur’s back hit the floor with Merlin crushing him with his not-so-light body.  
  
Merlin quickly lifted himself on his hands, allowing Arthur to breathe freely once again. The rest of his body still pinned Arthur to the ground, but Arthur did not mind. The couple shared an awkward look. They were so into it they actually fell over. Merlin must have been thinking the same as a grin started to tug at corners of his mouth, the merriment reflecting in his eyes and Arthur couldn’t resist any longer. He burst out laughing and felt Merlin’s join him only a beat later.  
  
When they stopped shaking in fits of laughter, Merlin rolled off, lying on the floor next to Arthur. For a moment they just lay there, feeling ridiculous and comfortable at the same time. When he caught his breath, Arthur got up, giving Merlin a helping hand. He took it and soon they were both at their feet again, their bodies mere inches apart and rapidly approaching a collision.  
  
“I’d like to-“ Arthur blurted when they essentially breathed the same air, the heat of Merlin’s body blending with his own. He stopped himself. That was not the way how to bring it up. He couldn’t think clearly. “Do you like-“ He tried again but he wasn’t sure how to continue to not make it sound crude. Merlin pulled away to look at him.  
  
“What is it?” He asked curiously. “You don’t have to be shy with _me_.” An amusement sparkled in Merlin’s eyes.  
  
Arthur held his breath and then dared something he did not think he ever would. Hiding in embrace, his face burrowed in hair behind Merlin’s ear, he let his hand veer down Merlin’s back to slowly but resolutely reach his backside, his fingers expressing what his voice would not.  
  
“I see. I’d like that very much.” Merlin whispered and a ghost of his breath sent shivers down Arthur’s spine.  
  
With the image vivid in his head, Arthur would have liked to start right then and there, but he held back, letting Merlin lead the way. When they were finally in bed and about to do it, Arthur’s impatience turned into nervousness. He knew what he was supposed to do, sure, but he never touched that part of anyone’s body and he felt embarrassment creep in to fill his mind. He knew that Merlin _wanted_ that but it still felt like a breach of privacy, like it had to be something highly uncomfortable and awkward.  
  
“Would you mind?” Merlin asked quietly and pulled him out of his self-doubt. Arthur looked up at Merlin and realized he had zoned out.  
  
“No. Sure.” He forced his voice to cooperate and his lips to form an answer. Merlin took his hand. His eyes that seemed endless like sky and universe above made Arthur forget all about any uneasy feelings. Merlin had everything under control and Arthur felt safe.  


Anal sex was different. Arthur couldn’t say if he liked it more or less just yet, only that it was very intense. It rendered him breathless and panting in a way too short time, but he couldn’t hold it back. He didn’t know how to. His muscles trembled with exertion. He didn’t know how Merlin did it, only that he matched his pace, hurrying to meet him at the climax, his own coming only few heartbeats after Arthur’s. Arthur was aware of his shortcomings. However, at that moment, he couldn’t care less.  
  
As they came down from the endorphins-induced euphoria, still gasping for air, Arthur felt calm and content. The sweat that covered his body begun to cool down and he decided it was time to do something about that.  
  
Arthur took Merlin to the Morgana’s bathroom, feeling like indulging them with a bath. His sister had the right idea how to equip her bathroom. She loved luxury and her bathroom reflected it. When Merlin asked him to light the candles Arthur’s sister had scattered all around the room, Arthur was surprized but did not comment at sappiness of it. He lit quite a few before turning off the light and joining Merlin in the bathtub.  
  
“That’s nice.” Merlin whispered against Arthur’s ear and Arthur could not do anything but agree. The candles filled the place with soft yellow light and warmed the air. It made him feel at ease.  
  
“Yes.” Arthur agreed and rested his head on Merlin’s shoulder. Merlin’s body was firm against his back. Arthur didn’t have to worry about putting too much weight on him. He simply let himself melt, relaxing his body into Merlin’s embrace.  
  
Following moments were spent in easy banter. Arthur had to admit he did enjoy Merlin’s attention. He never felt so comfortable before. Then Merlin unintentionally steered the conversation to Arthur’s father and his passing away and felt silent instantly, letting the topic lie with whispered apology.  
  
Arthur took a lungful of wax-smelling air and raised his head from where it rested on Merlin’s shoulder until then. He focused at the candle flames that formed steady cones of light and at the faintly shifting shadows they cast. He rarely talked about his complicated relationship with his father and never on his own volition. His lips moved on their own accord, when he spoke next.  
  
“My father… He was not easy to get on with. I grew up seeing him as a semi-god, but now I can see he was far from perfect.” Arthur admitted and Merlin tightened his embrace. It felt good. “But not everybody in the company sees it the same way.” He voiced his recent worry.  
  
“Well, you’re the CEO.” Merlin wasn’t giving him any condescending advice, just pointed out what he thought that mattered.  
  
“And the owner.” Arthur agreed tiredly. “But I need their expertise, their advice.”  
  
Merlin asked if it was hard to prove his worth and Arthur said that many would like him to be his father, acting differently making him weak in their eyes.  
  
“Doing things the way you think is best is not a weakness.” Merlin assured him and Arthur could say he believed his own words.  
  
“Thank you.” For someone who barely knew him Merlin was able to make him feel him better with just a few words. It reminded him of another conversation. Nostalgia made his heart ache as he thought of Mithian and the good things between them. She was the only person he conveyed to when he was in a self-doubt. He treasured her opinions even when they irked him at times.  
  
“Mithian said the same.”  
  
“Then she’s a wise woman. Was… Was your break-up rough?”  
  
Arthur summed up his feeling at that matter. He spent so much energy – both time and money at making her happy to realize it did not and that it wasn’t enough. He said so much to Merlin.  
  
“...And when she said she wanted to end it, I said ‘fine’.” Arthur shook his head. He couldn’t believe it all went down to such simple word. He loved Mithian, but he did not want to live like that, doing things he thought inconsequential just to placate her. He had to do that at his work, he couldn’t continue with it at home.  
  
“Well, at least you have me now, for a bargain price of three thousand quids.” Merlin flipped. A fling with rent boy was a poor substitute for what he had had with Mithian, but he it felt strangely satisfying nonetheless.  
“That I do.” Arthur chuckled in response to Merlin’s teasing, reclining into him once again.  
/  
The night felt short. Arthur slept well but getting up when it was still dark outside never seemed easy. He managed to invite Patricia Anders, their contact at Digital, Culture, Media, and Sport department, to a hunt organized by his hunting club. Leon was very good at collecting information and let him know about this particular interest of Mrs. Anders. That was just perfect setting for Arthur’s intentions for he participated in hunts since he was a child. It was also his and Mithian’s common interest and even though he had not had time to pursue it ever since the wedding preparation started, he felt very comfortable in that environment.  
  
Arthur shook Merlin to wake him up. Merlin blinked at him like an owl.  
  
“Get up, we’re going on a hunt.”  
  
“A hunt?” Merlin croaked and squinted at him, then laughed.  
  
“Sure. Shall I prepare you horse? Sire?” He joked.  
  
Arthur gifted him with a condescending look.  
  
“I’m not joking. Get moving. We need to hurry up.”  


  


Arthur felt only half-awake when he splashed some water onto his face but soon the routine kicked in and his brain followed the familiar patterns into wakefulness. It was the first time he and Merlin shared the bathroom while going through the motions of getting prepared for the day. They brushed their teeth shoulder to shoulder, washing themselves side by side without needless conversation. While Arthur couldn’t stand his previous partners occupying the bathroom at the same time he did, Merlin, unlike the women in Arthur’s life, did not need an extra space to put on elaborate make-up or to comb his hair over the sink and thus make it messy. Arthur felt like he discovered another perk of being with a man.  
  
This time when Arthur drove the car, Merlin offered no comments. Either he was too sleep-befuddled or noticed that Arthur was a way better driver when he had his own car. No matter the reason, Arthur felt content. The road disappeared under their tyres with steady speed.  
  
Arthur liked long rides. They gave him a feeling of an adventure waiting for him at their end, even though it rarely was true. They also reminded him of his long-forgotten passion for traveling. It hurt he could not set off whenever he felt like it anymore. Maybe, with Merlin, there could be just a little scrape of the adventure Arthur longed for. Merlin was like a rain – often surprising; throwing his drops into calm water to disturb it. He made him appreciate things Arthur perceived as ordinary. Arthur was definitely looking forward spending a day with him.  
  
/  
  
When they got to the mansion, Merlin was impressed just as Arthur knew he would be. Morgana was no miser when it came to luxury but even her flat paled in comparison with the luxury and beauty of Sir Lawrence’s mansion. It was timeless, with a piece of real history in it. Arthur really liked it and if he could he would live at place like that one. He felt proud on Sir Lawrence’s behalf of being able to show it to Merlin.  
  
The host of the hunt was his friend of old, so it was no problem to ask his butler, Ernest, to prepare the suitable attire for him and Merlin. When they were escorted to a room where they were to change their clothes, he set to the task with quiet efficiency.  
  
/  
  
Arthur looked up and found Merlin watching him helplessly. His breeches, shirt and vest were on, but he fought with tying of his stock. He was downright adorable in his confusion.  
  
Arthur strode up to him and took the stock ends from Merlin’s hands. Merlin eased up. A smirk tugged at Arthur’s lips, but Merlin eyes shone with honest gratitude and it made Arthur all warm inside. In a spur of the moment, Arthur leant in and kissed Merlin under his ear. Before it could turn into anything more, he pulled away and started to work on Merlin’s stock. He arranged it craftily and pinned it to place with a stock pin.  
  
“Here you go.” He gave Merlin a once-over when he was done.  
  
Merlin pulled on his hunting coat and all there was left then were the hats.  
  
/  
  
“Arthur?” Arthur turned to see Merlin biting his lip. “These are spurs, right?”  
  
“Of course.” He did not give too much thought to Merlin’s question as he continued to arrange his collar and stock into presentable shape.  
  
“Does that mean I’ll be riding a horse?” Merlin asked like an idiot.  
  
“Why are you even asking something like that?” Arthur finally turned to him, irked by pointlessness of such a question.  
  
“Arthur, I’ve never sat on a horse before.” Merlin admitted. “All right, once.” He added. “At the fair in Ealdor. But that was a pony.”  
  
That made Arthur pause. He did not realize there might be any issue with Merlin riding a horse. Everyone around him rode horses – his parents, Mithian, his uncle, Leon, Gaius, even Lancelot. Well, he never saw Geoffrey to ride a horse, so maybe not everyone, but still…  
  
“Oh… Don’t worry, it’s easy.” He played it down, because really, what else he could do? It was late to make any changes and he would feel stupid if he left Merlin at the mansion waiting for him all day.  
  
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Merlin grunted, misgiving clear in his face and voice. He only needed to be lent some support, a small push to brave something new to him. Arthur was sure he can ride a horse just fine.  
  
“Come on, Merlin. Don’t be such a girl’s petticoat.” He dismissed Merlin’s concern with derisive snort.  
  
/  
  
Arthur did not remember his first time on a horse. He was so little. His father was an avid hunter and took Arthur along since he was a boy. Arthur used to have his own horse. However, after his father died and with the fast accumulating responsibilities of the CEO, he scarcely had time to ride, let alone take personal care of the horses. So he sold the stables of Pendragon family. Even though it made his heart ache, it was a sensible thing to do and spared him one of the abundant responsibilities.  
  
When they entered the lawn, where the gathering of the Meet took place, Arthur started to search the crowd for familiar faces. He knew the better part of the present hunt participants. When he recognized Patricia, he felt relieved and tense at the same time. He had a good standing with her, he knew. However, whenever one dealt with people, things could go awry very fast for the most unpredictable of reasons. He would love to get over with it already, but things like this needed the right moment. And that moment hadn’t come yet. Besides, it would be impolite if he did not go to say hello to the host first.  
  
Arthur paid the required amount and waited until they got shots for the collective toast, to open the hunt. Like usually, Merlin had no scruples about drinking and downed his shot in one gulp. Out of courtesy, Arthur sipped a little of his own drink. He was not going to drink it. Seeing how Merlin easily got over his own, Arthur handed him his shot glass, too. Merlin scowled at it. He looked at Arthur with question written on his face.  
  
“What? I am a driver.” Arthur defended himself. How on Earth did Merlin think they would get back? He shook his head.  
  
Merlin sighed and downed the second drink as well.  
  
/  
  
When Arthur spotted his uncle, he wanted to go over and greet him, but he had other urgent task at hand. That was to get Merlin on the back of the horse. Arthur’s eyes went skywards when he saw how Merlin almost pulled down the saddle the first time around. Alarmed by the action, he managed to stop Merlin before he could hurt the horse. He realized he needed to explain even things that seemed obvious to him. He did not take further risks and helped Merlin into the saddle by hoisting him with a foot support.  
  
“Just keep the reins loose.” Arthur advised. “When you tighten your grip, it spurs the horse to go faster.” Most of the procession was already on its way, there wasn’t time for full lecture of horse-riding. Arthur felt a little guilty about it, but he came to fix things that were important to the company and he could not afford to mess it up. If he wanted an unforced conversation with Anders, he needed to catch up with her. “Don’t worry, your horse would follow the rest.” He assured Merlin and spurred his horse on.  
  
/  
  
Arthur caught on with the main body of the riders. On his way to Patricia he greeted his acquaintances, making small talk now and then. As he crossed a distance from one familiar person to another, a deep brown stallion flanked his Onyx.  
“Uncle.” Arthur smiled and Agravaine returned his greeting with a large smile of his own.  
  
“Arthur. Good to see you.”  
  
“You, too.” Arthur’s uncle could have been a pain at work sometimes, but other than that he and Arthur had a cordial relationship. Agravaine was brother to Arthur’s mother and when his father would keep silent, he would tell him stories form their youth, filling the gap of where Arthur’s own memories would have been had his mother lived longer. And despite their frequent disagreements on topic of business, he was always protective of his own nephew and Arthur appreciated that.  
  
“Did you notice Patricia Anders is here?” His uncle whispered excitedly.  
  
“Mhm.” Arthur smirked. “I asked her.”  
  
Agravaine frowned and then looked at him in surprize. His expression turned appreciative.  
  
“That’s my boy. Well done, Arthur.” Arthur suppressed a sigh. He wasn’t keen on when Agravaine or any of his elder colleagues made him look like an immature youngster.  
  
“I shall better catch up with her.” Arthur excused himself and left his uncle behind.  
  
/  
  
Every now and then, Arthur stole a glance in Merlin’s direction. He wished he had more time to take Merlin for a ride where there would be just the two of them. Merlin looked fantastic. Arthur could not wrap his mind how it was possible that Merlin stole his eyes the way he did, because Arthur would swear he never found hunt attire attractive before.  


“Good morning, Mrs. Anders. Do you enjoy the hunt so far?” Arthur joined his contact at the slower stretch of the road.  
  
She turned her head.  
  
“Oh, please. Call me Patricia. ‘Mrs. Anders’ makes me feel so old.” She asked him good-naturedly, even though she wasn’t old at all.  
  
“Well then, Patricia.” Arthur smiled.  
  
“I’m glad you invited me. It’s a nice opening of the hunting season. I’ll be reuniting with my own club in a couple of days, but it’s been refreshing to see a different landscape and ride through different paths.”  
  
She spurred her horse while Arthur slowed his down as the way narrowed. For a while, a two-sided conversation was not possible as they had to go in single file – one horse at a time, but as soon as the route got wide enough, Arthur was back by her side.  
  
“I’m glad you accepted my invitation.” Arthur reciprocated. “I know you’re a busy woman.”  
  
“Enough of that.” She cut in before he could shower her with his sure-to-come flattery. “What do you want to talk about with me?” He liked her attitude.  
  
“About that… I’d like to ask you a favour.”  
  
/  
  
Leading an animated conversation with Patricia, who turned out to be an unexpectedly good companion, Arthur has all but forgotten about Merlin. Only when they got near to the estate, the hunt itself drawing to an end, he started to search the crowd behind. Content he did all that was needed to push the scales in their favour, Arthur looked forward to reuniting with Merlin. He was curious about how Merlin liked the ride, whether he fell in love with it the way Arthur did when he was a child.  
  
To his annoyance, he couldn’t find Merlin for quite some time – not before he handed over his horse and joined the afternoon banquet – and then, when he gave up searching, he spotted him at the shooting range of all the places. A young and attractive man was just touching his shoulders, presumably correcting Merlin’s shooting stance. Merlin fired the round and went to check his score. Strong disapproval possessed Arthur’s body and mind, when he saw the two men in success-celebrating high five, Merlin grinning like a lunatic while he half-embraced the other. _Flirting_. He was about to set off and drag him away, when he was once again found by his uncle.  
  
“I tell you, the hunts are not what they used to be. It’s like drinking alcohol free beer – you can do it but there’s a little enjoyment in it. Your father understood that.” The same old song. Arthur forced his eyes to abandon the scene at the shooting range and focus at the man by his side instead.  
  
When The Hunting Act prohibited hound-hunting of foxes, deer and hare, his father was furious. Arthur did not care. He never understood Uther’s passion. He did not judge it, but he did not make it his own either. And while he was well-versed in an act of chase, it was ride on a horse what Arthur himself loved the most. Obviously, his uncle was on one boat with Arthur’s father in this, like in many other things in which Arthur did not take after his father. He was tired and irked of being constantly reminded of and compared with his father. Uther was such a presence that he kept living in everyone’s memory, his shadow hunting him to this day.  
  
“I’m sure he did.” Arthur replied neutrally.  
  
“And what about our ‘ _thing_ ’? Have you and DCMS reached mutual understanding?” Agravaine spied.  
  
“Yes, we did. That base is covered. You don’t have to worry about it anymore.” He smiled although he didn’t felt like it.  
  
“Perfect.”  
  
Arthur looked around for means to get out of that conversation, when Merlin, sans the attractive stranger and in his unconsciously glorious self, came to meet him.  
  
“Oh, Merlin.” Arthur couldn’t help the tug at the corners of his mouth and let it open into a sincere smile.  
  
“This is Merlin Morgan, my friend.” Arthur’s introduced him, feeling an odd mix of guilt and pride.  
  
“Agravaine DuBois. It’s always a pleasure meeting one of Arthur’s friends.” Arthur’s uncle didn’t waste any time – except for a purposeful little pause in his speech – before he asked first question. “Where have the two of you met?” It was a casually laid question and yet, Arthur could not shake off a feeling he was being a witness to an interrogation. Agravaine obviously did not believe in world where Arthur had friends his uncle had never heard about.  
  
Merlin faltered for a split of a second, then, instead of answering, laid a question himself.  
  
”Where have you?”  
  
His uncle was evidently rather amused than offended by Merlin’s ignorance.  
  
“Arthur’s my nephew.” He enlightened him.  
  
“Uncle is Camelot Hotels’ lawyer.” Arthur supplied and at the same time realized the next question would concern Merlin and his occupation and that he would rather have this conversation only between him and his uncle, minimizing the risk of their cover being blown up.  
  
“Merlin. Why don’t you go and fetch us some drinks?”  
  
/  
  
“So who is he?”  
  
“The person I took to the fundraiser. A friend.” Arthur replied, seemingly unperturbed by the whole thing.  
  
“Is he? …And how have you met? If it’s not a secret.” Agravaine poked at him for the evasiveness with which Merlin reacted to his question the first time around.  
  
Arthur wasn’t a good liar. He bluffed at times of great need, but he certainly couldn’t pull it off with someone who knew him literally his whole life. He decided he would say the truth… with few omissions.  
  
“Uhm, I was asking for directions. And there he was.”  
  
“Oh, so you just ran into him? A bit unusual way of meeting, if you ask me. So anyway, what does he do?” And there was the question.  
  
“He's in sales.” Arthur answered vaguely.  
  
“Sales? That's terrific.” Agravaine paused for a moment, just not to look pushy, Arthur was sure. “What does he sell?”  
  
“Why do you want to know?” Arthur didn’t manage to filter out his irritation about Agravaine’s ongoing interrogation. Merlin was a friend, not his potential next wife. This was an outright nosiness.  
  
Agravaine sighed like if he knew something that Arthur did not, due to his young age.  
  
“Just hear me out on this. I've known you all your life. It’s just that I see some differences in you this week, like the strange watch, and, uh... a change in your approach to the work.” He said it in a condescending manner, showing he did not mind the change. Of course, he did mind. “I'm wondering if maybe this boy isn't the difference? Especially when I see him talking to Vivian Bayard and her fiancée all day long.”  
  
“I introduced them at fundraiser the other night.” Arthur brushed it off.  
  
“So what? Now they're best friends?” Agravaine questioned the matter. “This boy appears out of nowhere. And now he's talking to a girl whose company we're trying to buy. Convenient, don't you think?”  
  
“Don't be ridiculous.” Merlin simply did not know anybody else. It was only natural he talked with people he already met before. Even though, he did not have to be so friendly. A picture of Merlin laughing and embracing with a man, who had to be Vivian’s fiancée as Arthur just realized, flickered through his mind.  
  
“Arthur, don’t be naïve. How do you know that this boy... hasn't attached himself to you because he's bringing information back to Bayard?” Arthur rolled his eyes and Agravaine looked like bursting with indignation. “This happens! Industrial espionage...”  
  
“Uncle!”  
  
“What?”  
  
“He's not a spy.” Agravaine gave him a highly doubtful look. _‘Damn it!’_ He had to tell him. Better have it out this way than through a private investigator his uncle was sure to employ. “He is a rent boy.” Arthur admitted at last.  
  
“Oh.” That took his uncle by surprise.  
  
“Yes.” Arthur confirmed. “I picked him up in Soho. In Morgana’s car.” It wasn’t easy to simultaneously admit he had more volatile sexual preferences that most of the people did.  
  
Agravaine’s expression slowly morphed from shocked to amused.  
  
“Oh, boy! You're the only millionaire I ever heard of... who goes looking for a bargain basement streetwalker, you know?” His lips stretched in what would be smile, if he let them, and his eyebrow climbed up into impressed arch. “Next time just tell me. I know plenty of nice girls… I suppose I could manage to get contact to some boys, too – that would gladly do the service. Without a risk of gonnorhea.” He offered generously.  
  
Now it was time for Arthur to feel indignation. He clenched his teeth.  
  
“That’s enough.” He said gravely, much to Agravaine’s dismay.  
  
“Arthur?”  
  
“I'm sorry I told you.” Turning his back at his uncle, Arthur went to find Merlin.  
  
/  
  
The rest of the banquet was bearable only thanks to Merlin’s company. It didn’t make Arthur forget Agravaine’s obnoxious behaviour but it took the edge off, plus ‘fun’ belonged to Merlin’s basic description. Arthur wasn’t sure when his being became so dependable on the silly chap. However, when the occasion neared its end, something happened and it was as if Merlin had been exchanged for another person. He barely spoke and when he did, he used monosyllables. Arthur repeatedly tried to ask what’s wrong but to no avail.  
  
“You all right?” Arthur asked for what had to be umpteenth time.  
  
“I’m fine.” Merlin snapped at him. Again.  
  
“Fine. That's good. Seven ‘fines’ since we left the hunt.” Arthur assessed their situation. He tried to lighten the mood by playing impressed by the number. It did not work. He let out a heavy sigh. “Could I have another word, please?” He begged.  
  
“Clotpole.” Merlin shot back.  
  
_‘What?’_  
  
“Is that even a word? ...Come on, I’m missing your usual prattle.” Arthur wasn’t giving up until he found out what was going on.  
  
“You’re certainly making up for it.” Merlin quipped. Arthur watched him as he collected his things.  
  
“What are you doing?” They were just talking, why couldn’t Merlin stand still for a second?  
  
“I’m leaving.” Merlin announced.  
  
“What?! Why?” All right, he was angry but… they had a deal!  
  
Merlin finally stopped for a moment. He did not turn to Arthur, though.  
  
“Your uncle made me see what your priorities are and what should be mine.” Merlin voice sounded tight, somewhat raw.  
  
“I don’t know what my uncle told you but I’m sure you’re over-reacting. There’s no need to make such a fuss.” Arthur wondered what Agravaine might have told him. He was unpleasant at times, but Merlin did not have to listen to him.  
  
“Just tell me one thing.” Merlin asked him, radiating rebuke. “Why did you take me with you? To the hunt?”  
  
Wasn’t it obvious?  
  
“Well, for one thing, I thought you may actually enjoy it.”  
  
Merlin let out a disbelieving huff and threw at him a list of accusations. It started with Arthur leaving Merlin on his own during the hunt and ended with Arthur supposedly telling everybody he met about Merlin being a rent boy for the fun of it.  
“Next time just let me wear my own clothes, okay? Maybe write a bloody sign!” Merlin almost shouted while he did his best to stare Arthur down.  
  
Arthur did not have to listen to this – these false accusations that Merlin conjured from who-knows-what.  
  
“Are you out of your mind? Do you think I want people to know? Do you _really think_ I would want to be openly associated with a rent boy?” He did all he could to remain discreet. It wasn’t his fault that Agravaine was crazy paranoid.  
  
That seemed to give Merlin a pause, however brief.  
  
“Oh, I’m sorry. I should have known you’d never. Agravaine told me how your company would wither and die were you ever to be associated with the real me. But you’re lucky I don’t fancy airing my dirty laundry in public, either.”  
  
_‘Cretin.’_ Arthur thought to himself, pissed when he learned what his uncle felt a need for imparting to Merlin.  
  
“I'm sorry. I'm not happy with Agravaine at all for saying that. But he is my uncle, my family. He’s trying to protect me. He thought you were some kind of industrial spy.” Arthur tried to explain his actions by sharing his reasoning. It did not seem to placate Merlin much, though.  
  
“Still, that gave no right- I'm not some little toy!” Merlin’s eyes were burning, his jaw set into hard lines of anger.  
  
_‘Oh, my God!’_  
  
“Look, I know you're not my toy.” Arthur tried once again to set this right, but Merlin ignored him, already on his way to a door. “Merlin! Merlin, I'm speaking to you. Come back here!” Faced with a fact Merlin will not come back, Arthur started his descent of the stairs, following Merlin downstairs.  
  
”I hate to point out the obvious, but you are, in fact, a rent boy! And you are my employee!” Arthur raised his voice to make Merlin listen. He made more than a generous effort to make up, but maybe what Merlin needed was to clear the facts.  
  
“You don't own me.” Merlin protested. Did Arthur say something like that? Arthur stopped at the base of the stairs while Merlin went on to the door. He didn’t want to fight anymore. He said as much to Merlin – he said sorry to him and that he meant it, which was more than he did for people that meant a lot to him. And what Merlin did? He told him he was sorry he ever met him.  
  
“I'm sorry I ever got into your stupid car!” Merlin crowed, his voice unsteady.  
  
“As if you had so many more appealing options.” Arthur couldn’t resist a jibe.  
  
“I've _never_ had anyone make me feel as petty as you did today.” Merlin had worked himself up, his voice full of emotion. Arthur saw him fight hyperventilation and his eyes swell with tears. Totally overreacting.  
  
“Somehow, I find that very hard to believe.” Arthur would not play these stupid games. Merlin could pretend all he wanted, but Arthur was not going to fall for it. He won’t let himself become an emotional hostage. Wasn’t it Merlin who said that emotions go aside in a business?  
  
“I want my money. I want to get out of here.” Merlin mumbled, standing at the door, his arms full of clothes Arthur bought for him.  
  
_‘Is he serious?’_  
  
Until then Arthur thought that Merlin just wanted to make his point. Well, if he really wanted to leave, he would not hold him.  
  
Arthur located his laptop briefcase. The envelope he put there the day he made the deal with Merlin was on its place. He took it out and felt its weight in his hand. To show his disagreement with the outcome, he threw the envelope with money in Merlin’s direction. He knew it was petty, but he couldn’t get himself to make those few final steps towards Merlin and hand it to him personally. It was the last thing that held Merlin in place and now he had it; Arthur gave it away. Now it lay at Merlin’s feet for him to take. That’s what their short affair could be summed up to after all – mere business between a rent boy and his customer. Giving Merlin a space to collect his money and go, Arthur positioned himself by a window. Maybe he wanted to further show his disapproval, maybe he just didn’t want to look and see the final thread between the two of them being cut. Either way, he didn’t turn until he heard the unmistakable sound of a door being shut.  
  
Only when he noticed the envelope full of money left on the floor where he carelessly threw it, he realized something was off. No sane prostitute would ever leave such a sum of money to literally lie on a floor. Heat of his anger was put out by regret and shame. If Merlin aimed to make him feel like a bloody bastard, he succeeded.  


  


When he opened the door, Merlin was gone. For a second, he considered letting it be, just closing this episode of his life together with the door. Then he looked at the money in his hand and a picture of Merlin’s wet eyes flicked through his memory. He did not pretend, those feelings were real. It was so far away from a winsome smile Merlin enchanted him with. Arthur gulped at the thought it was he who caused him so much pain. That’s not what he wanted. Merlin deserved better. Besides, Arthur wasn’t done with him, he wasn’t prepared to let him go just yet. Arthur has decided.  
  
/  
  
Tracing someone like Merlin down wasn’t an easy task. There was only one place where Arthur knew he could start and that was the street where he picked him up. Arthur slowly drove his car down the street, the local nightlife foreign to him. When he noticed a group of provocatively dressed women, he pulled the car over the curb. He didn’t have to wait long before one of them ambled closer, checking him out.  
  
“Hey, honey. ‘Looking for some company?” She tilted her head to a side and bit her bright red lips.  
  
“Actually, I am looking for someone. His name’s Merlin. Have you seen him?”  
  
She let out a disappointed sigh, her stance loosing up. Arthur could tell she was about to walk away so he added:  
  
“I’ll pay for the information.”  
  
Her face formed a speculative frown and she turned to her friends, waving them over. The other two reluctantly followed, curiosity written all over their faces.  
  
“He says he’s lookin’ for some guy.” She told them.  
  
“Merlin. He’s a rent boy. I came to understand this is his... workplace.” Arthur specified.  
  
“How does he look?” The one with unnaturally bronze hair and thick make-up asked. Arthur thought about how to sum up Merlin’s appearance.  
  
“Tall, lanky, pale with black wavy hair. Nice smile.”  
  
“Skinny jeans?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Oh, I haven’t seen him for few days now.” Sure, he was with Arthur all this time.  
  
“Do you know where I could find him?”  
  
“Sorry.”  
  
“Huh.” Arthur turned sombre, his hopes deserting him.  


  


Arthur asked few more people – two boys that seemed to loiter around, a barman in a local watering hole. A group of drunkards turned around a corner and passed him in noisy conversation. They occupied his attention to the point he missed two looming men that were eyeing him. He started to wonder whether it was a good idea to take his valet or his car with him at all. Someone took him by his arm and bumped into his hip. Arthur jumped and then turned to find a fifty-something woman hanging on him, smiling like he was a particularly sweet candy.  
  
“Come on, let’s enjoy the night. I promise you won’t regret it.” She winked at him. Her eyes were all gold glitter and although the wrinkles showed, she wasn’t too bad looking for someone her age. Arthur wasn’t sure what to make out of it.  
  
“I’m not interested.” He uttered through tight lips.  
  
“We can just have a drink or two. I have friends over in Red Lion, we can join them or it can be just the two of us. Whatever you like.” She smiled and Arthur thought she was old enough that she could be his mother, but her suggestive smile was anything but motherly.  
  
“Well, thanks, but that’s not what I’m looking for.”  
  
“What are you looking for then? I can be resourceful, you’d be surprized.” She caressed his bicep, the other hand still clutching him just over his elbow.  
  
“Are you? I am looking for a young man. His name’s Merlin.” She pursed her lips.  
  
“Well, I could ask around... Come tomorrow and we’ll have that drink.” She finally let go of him.  
  
“I was hoping to find him tonight.”  
  
She shrugged.  
  
“That you may.”  
  
“Wait, I just remembered... He mentioned his friend. Gwaine? Does that ring a bell?”  
  
Her face lit up.  
  
“Why haven’t you mentioned him sooner?”  
  
‘Indeed, why have I not?’ Arthur thought wryly at discovery of Gwaine being obviously far better known than Merlin in certain circles.  
  
“Do you know where I could find him?”  
  
“No.” Arthur scoffed at her reply. “But I know someone who does.” She grinned triumphantly and wiggled her eyebrows.  


  


After she brought him to some guy that instructed him on how to get to Gwaine’s place, claiming Gwaine won’t be out at this hour just yet, he gave them each a tenner and plunged into a labyrinth of unknown lamp-lit streets.  
  
The bell at the door to Gwaine’s block of flats was broken, but luckily so was the door lock and Arthur entered the dimly lit corridor behind. There were graffiti on the walls that haven’t been painted in a while, the mossy green coloured plaster peeling off in one corner of the wall. On his way to the staircase, Arthur passed a small pile of litter and sniffed at a faint smell of urine. He hurried up to the 3rd floor and knocked at the door. He waited, listening to the sounds of the building. He could hear a TV blasting a floor lower, someone shouting and a kid crying afterwards, sounds of shuffling of furniture – or at least that was what the sounds reminded him of. When nobody opened, Arthur proceeded to bang on the door.  
  
“All right. Coming. I’m coming!” He heard a male voice in between the bangs. It came from behind the door that opened a few seconds later.  
  
Arthur came face to face with handsome brown-eyed man who frowned at him instead of greeting.  
  
“What do you want?” He asked directly as Arthur took in his long hair, beard and crumpled clothes.  
  
“Hello. I’m Arthur Pendragon.” Arthur tried to keep his manners despite the lack thereof he was met with. “I’d like to ask you about your friend.” Gwaine just lifted his eyebrow.  
  
“Do you know where I could find Merlin?” Arthur trudged on. The annoyance in Gwaine’s eyes turned into hostility.  
  
“Yes, I do.”  
  
“So could you tell me?” Arthur asked hopefully.  
  
“I could. But I won’t.” Gwaine turned him down, his expression hard and unyielding.  
  
An idea sprang up in Arthur’s head.  
  
“He forgot something at mine place. I’d like to give it to him.” He half lied.  
  
“You can leave it here.”  
  
“I’d prefer to give it to him personally.”  
  
“Too bad.” Gwaine informed him with fake commiseration.  
  
“Look, I just really need to talk to him-“ Arthur held his own.  
  
“If he didn’t tell you where to find him, I doubt he wanted you to know. So piss off before I call the police.” Arthur was taken aback by the force of Gwaine’s dislike. He ached to ask more, to try again but he found no words that would likely move Merlin’s friend to helping him.  
  
Arthur clenched his teeth and stepped back.  
  
“Then tell him I was looking for him.” Gwaine watched him, making sure Arthur truly left.  


/  
  
Downstairs, Arthur lingered at the doorstep, gathering his will to leave. This was it. Gwaine was his best chance to find Merlin and he refused to help him. Arthur understood why he did it, but he could not forgive him.  
  
“A hard day?” A young man that was propelled against an outside wall and smoking when Arthur came was still there and now he blew out another cloud of smoke and turned to him.  
  
“Hm.” Arthur lifted his head before looking at the tips of his shoes again.  
  
“I heard you talking with Gwaine. He’s a bit overprotective.” Arthur bristled. He looked at the man again.  
  
“I need to find Merlin Morgan, his friend. Do you know him?” The guy smiled.  
  
“Merlin left half an hour ago. He said he’s going to Blue Panther.”  
  
“Thank you. Thank you so much!”  
  
/  
  
The club was signed with blue neon tubes shaped into its name. Arthur pulled at the door and was welcomed by muted light of a small anteroom and normal looking guy standing behind a counter. The space behind him was filled with coat-stands that were mostly full.  
  
“Forty pounds, please.” He followed thumb pointing at a small board, where a price of an entrance fee was scribbled with blue chalk. “There’s a performance tonight.” The man explained.  
  
Arthur didn’t even try to argue, he just pulled out his valet and gave him the money.  
  
“Would you like to leave some of your belongings with me?”  
  
“No, I won’t be long.”  
  
And he entered the second door that led to the club itself.  
  
Immediately, he was swamped by a loud music, the hot, mildly stuffy air making him regret not leaving his jacket at the cloakroom. He ran down the steps to the underground level and heard a wave of cheering drown out the music. The main space was better lit than the staircase, but still remained rather dim. There was a long bar along the left side and beyond the many tables and chairs filled with people, a stage flashed with colourful spotlights. He tried to pierce the shadows, his eyes shooting from one table to another. The cheering went on for a while before it reduced into excited hum. Then a new tune caught his attention and bright white light flooded the stage. There was a model of a car that had been just a dark lump until now and five dancers posed around it. The blazing light was making the scene look surreal, like cut out from a movie. Arthur returned to surveying the audience and a tune of ‘Greased Lightning’ filled the air.  
  
_‘Adaptation of Grease. Wonderful.’_ He thought sullenly. He still couldn’t find Merlin. There were too many people and the space was too dark, not to mention the flashes of light from the stage that made the vision adjustment much harder. Frustrated, he turned his eyes to the stage. For a while, he watched, with scanty interest, the dancers to stretch one hand out, draw a semicircle and pump it in Grease signature movement in perfect sync. They made a fast spin, putting a hand fast on one hip and canting the other upwards… And then their leather jackets were off and between their legs and the dancers made a riding motion followed up by a series of short forward jumps, their knees bent and hips pointing up. Arthur averted his eyes to try to make Merlin’s shape out among the shadow silhouettes of gathered people. There was another wave of cheer and whistle and Arthur’s eyes flicked back to the stage to find out what aroused such a fuss.  
  
Only then he realized it wasn’t any ordinary adaptation. It was a strip show. (And most of the cheering came from men.) He watched the stage where the dancers had just ripped their T-shirts open and it took his breath when he suddenly recognized Merlin in one of the provocatively undulating men.  
  
Merlin looked like he was born for dancing. Arthur wouldn’t ever imagined that, not even in his wildest dreams. But there he was, moving his body sinuously with the music, rocking it with the beat of music. Grease wasn’t Arthur’s thing, however, he would lie if he said that Merlin’s performance did nothing to him. Merlin’s moves were confident and Arthur could not take his eyes off of him. Arthur tuned out the lyrics of the song, feeling only its rhythm pulsing through his body as it rolled from the loudspeakers.  
  
He watched the fit-shaped buttocks in the tight trousers, hips shaking and legs twisting.  
  
Arthur didn’t notice how he got to the stage. He felt like a moth, helpless to a calling of Merlin’s light. All he could think about was how perfect his body was and when Merlin’s pants went flying off and somebody reached out to feel his abs when he knelt down, Arthur had lost it. He didn’t want Merlin to parade in front of others, to woe them into his toils. Arthur was already there and he wasn’t used to share with anybody. Just when Merlin came to an edge of the stage, Arthur jumped in, unceremoniously grabbed him and pulled him down and over his shoulder. It earned him a round of wolf whistle and few louder protests, but nobody tried to stop him.  
  
Bent over Arthur’s shoulder, Merlin struggled, but Arthur only tightened his grip and shifted Merlin’s centre of gravity to make it harder for him to straighten up. Merlin had to be of almost the same weight as Arthur and wasn’t exactly easy to carry around but Arthur did not care. He braced himself and made all the hours in pool count.  
  
Arthur needed a quiet place where they could talk. The anteroom seemed like a best option. He crossed the space, ignoring stares and curious looks alike. The staircase itself was quite a challenge, given he tried to pull up about three hundred thirty pounds of their joined weights. Even so, he slogged up, his thighs and calves pumping like pistons until he reached a door to the upper floor, their heavy material blessedly isolating them from the noise of the main space.  
  
There, finally, Arthur bent forward, putting Merlin down. As soon as his toes touched a ground, Merlin pushed against Arthur’s chest to get away from him.  
  
“What the hell are you thinking?” He blew up at Arthur. “You have behaviour of a caveman!”  
  
The guy behind the counter cleared his throat and gave Merlin a meaningful look. Merlin shook his head, signalling that he didn’t want any help. Otherwise, Arthur deduced, he would be already lying flat on the pavement in front of the club, after being helped off by its bouncers.  
  
“Why have you come?” Merlin was as alert as a hare in an open field. His defensiveness was underlined with intense irritation.  
  
“Come back. I’ll pay you double price. Triple.” Arthur negotiated. Merlin shook his head and looked up at the ceiling like he was asking whether heaven could see the idiocy he had to deal with. “I- I swear to treat you with respect.” That made Merlin pause. “Please. Come back.” Arthur almost whispered.  
  
Merlin seemed to weight his words for a moment and Arthur thought he got him.  
  
“No.” Merlin crushed his belief. “You’re talking about respect but I doubt you even know what that word means.”  
  
Arthur did not know what to say.  
  
“Goodbye, Arthur.” Merlin told him in a way of parting and left through the door to the main hall.  
  
Arthur stared at the door for another minute, then his gaze shifted to the guy behind the counter – the only other person in the room and a witness to their conversation. The way the young man’s looked back at him made it clear what he thought about Arthur. They were no good things.  
  
Arthur left. There was nothing that held him back.  
  
/  
  
Arthur got in his car he left in a small parking lot behind the club. He should have felt relieved it was even there, considering the neighbourhood. It was cool, but he felt like he couldn’t breathe in it. He rolled the window down a few inches. Chilly breeze wafted over his face and he sucked the fresh air into his lungs in one deep breath. He stared at the steering wheel and the controls behind it and didn’t feel any desire to actually start the car.  
  
He should delete Merlin’s number from his contacts. He pulled out his phone and brought up Merlin’s contact card. ‘Delete.’ The phone asked back. ‘Confirm delete.’ His thumb hovered over the screen. After a moment of what felt like a torture, he simply locked the phone and put it away.  
  
While Arthur was working himself up to turn the ignition on and leave, a distant sound of door opening and closing reached his ears. It was followed by chatter of two men.  
  
“–was about?” The first finished his question Arthur hadn’t heard a beginning of.  
  
“You mean with Merlin? Don’t know. Jealous boyfriend, maybe?” The second shrugged. They did not seem to notice Arthur in dark interior of his car as they walked to it. He felt like a thug, hiding in the shadows.  
  
“Do you think he has one? I heard he’s paid for, if you know what I mean…” One of them speculated, while they passed the car.  
  
“Anyway, I would kill that dick, if he did _that_ to me.” The other claimed with utter conviction.  
  
“Whatever. I need to go catch the bus or I’ll be in for a very long night walk.”  
  
“Bye!”  
  
Then Arthur heard one set of footsteps quicken, while the other kept its pace.  
  
Was it really so bad? It came as natural to him, when he pulled Merlin out of the stage. He simply followed his instincts. Now he thought of it, it might have gone a little overboard. Like taking something without asking first. Arthur rested his forehead against the cool leather of the steering wheel.  
  
“Shit.” He vented his feelings. Opening the door with confident swing, he stepped back to the street and cut the distance between his car and the back door of the Blue Panther club. He could not leave it this way, not while feeling like an arrogant asshole.  
  
/  
  
Arthur had to wait for about twenty more minutes before Merlin turned up, but he did not dare to step inside.  
  
“Merlin.” He stopped the lanky boy in his tracks, when the door swung open and Merlin finally stepped outside.  
  
Merlin turned with peeved expression on his face.  
  
“What now?” He snapped.  
  
“Just hear me out!” Arthur blurted. Merlin put his hands against his hips and looked like he couldn’t decide whether to face Arthur and be done once for all with him or just to say something profane and turn his back on him. Arthur hurried to talk before Merlin’s patience wore off. “First,” He paused to check what he was about to say. “I’d like to apologize to you.” Merlin cocked his eyebrow. “For interrupting you while you were on the stage.” Arthur elaborated. “I didn’t like it, the way others ogled and touched you while you were almost naked, but it’s your job and I should have had respect it.”  
  
“And second?” Merlin did not let himself to be won over easily.  
  
“I would be truly delighted, if you could leave behind my lack of sensibility and tactfulness and enjoy the rest of the week with me.”  
  
“Wow.” Merlin said in mock-impressed tone, but a small smile was already playing on his lips and Arthur knew he had him. Even if Merlin says ‘no’ again, it’s just a matter of time now until Arthur convinces him.  
  
“Will you indulge me and will you come back?” Arthur asked carefully.  
  
“Fine.” Merlin relented. “But you should know that I don’t need you. I did fine before you came around and I will do fine after you leave.”  
  
Arthur couldn’t help the wide grin that sneaked onto his face despite Merlin’s aloofness.


	13. Merlin

All the time he waited for the elevator, he impatiently bit at inside of his bottom lip, curling and uncurling fingers in his expensive shoes, but when the door finally opened with a soft ding and the empty space invited him in, he hesitated. Somehow, he hoped that Arthur _would_ notice the money he left behind, walk out and make some grand gesture, maybe a heartfelt apology. Not that he would go back thanks to it, but it would ease the sting of Arthur’s cold attitude. It would mean Merlin meant _something_ to him.  
  
When the door closed behind him with soft ‘whooosh’ it felt final. Merlin didn’t expect it to hurt as much as it did. He thought that Arthur’s arrogance was the worst blow, but knowing he had to leave and yet feeling like staying was even worse.  
  
/  
  
Merlin was a lost case. He just knew it. The time when he left parental home full of plans and hope came to him as a painful reminder of his recurrent naivety. He was always too optimistic, thinking that everything is possible and things will go just fine. Why not? Really – why could not world work according to his rules for once?  
  
He sunk his hand into his backpack to feel for a hard and bumpy shape of his keys. He was home.  
  
He found the correct key, pushed it into the lock and turned it. The door opened to familiar mess of his and Gwaine’s humble dwelling.  
  
Toeing off his shoes, he aimed to his room. He barely started moving when Gwaine showed up. Instead of talking, he just lifted his eyebrows in a silent question. Seeing Merlin’s defeated posture, Gwaine’s shoulders fell in sympathy. In two steps, he was hugging Merlin together with his armful of clothes, enriching the tight hug with few pats on the back before letting go. Although short, this contact was warm and full of life and made Merlin feel a little less lonely.  
  
“What’s up? I thought that you’re to stay with your sugar daddy ‘til Sunday?” Gwaine hummed in his pleasant baritone.  
  
“Arthur’s not a _daddy_!” Merlin rose in protest, then sighed. “He’s only four months older than me.” He mumbled and shook his head, his eyes unfocused, listless.  
  
“What have I told you?” Gwaine reprimanded him in a patronizing way.  
  
“Do not fall for them.” They both answered his question simultaneously – Gwaine reciting, repeating what he told him so many times before and Merlin parroting dutifully after him.  
  
“Yeah, I know.” Merlin rolled his eyes. Gwaine’s friendly jeers gave him a feeling of normalcy. He bent his head down. In time, he will be all right – he knew it, even though it was hard to believe at the moment. Like so many times before.  
  
Gwaine gave him another strong pat on his arm, squeezing it reassuringly for a while.  
  
“Lucas was looking for you. ‘said he needs a backup for a show tonight.” He looked him in the eye. “Off you go, I’ll call him.” He decided and pushed Merlin in direction to his room.  
  
A show. Money. He can do that, Merlin thought as he dumped the clothes atop his bed.  
  
/  
  
At the time when Merlin came almost penniless but with a big smile to London, the reality crushed him down with gusto of spiteful monster. He refused to give up and return home. He found enough jobs to keep him afloat. The workload almost broke his back but the shame that burned in him whenever he thought about his careless assurance he gave his mother when leaving kept him sweating through the days. Even when he was eventually kicked out from his dirty hole of a living space he called home, he did not give up. He hit the bottom. It was the worst time of his life and he would give anything to forget that clawing fear and helplessness, the feeling of being absolutely worthless. Then he met Gwaine and it was like a ray of pure light breaking through heavy curtain of stormy clouds. Gwaine, his first real friend in the big city, has took him in – after hitting on him under a misapprehension of Merlin having some money – and gave Merlin the so much needed space to get his second breath. Gwaine made money by selling his body and seemed to be pretty much content with it. Merlin did not judge him. Life on a street, albeit short, gave him a new perspective of many things. And from there it was just a step to accepting a request for a blowjob for a member of a stag party. Merlin made mistakes, but he was a survivor.  
  
Now Merlin considered himself a freelancer. He was exchanging his skills for money. Using his body and not just his brain was nothing to be ashamed of. Not having a pimp made things complicated and harder more often than not but at least he was his own master. Nobody to tell him what to do or forcing him into something was what made Merlin endure. Because it made him equal with the client. Nonetheless, Arthur and his uncle reduced him into puppet they thought they can play with, pull a string and made him bow. They were sorely mistaken.  
  
Merlin repeated the steps and moves in his head, his heart beating frantically in expectation as he pulled on the tight trousers. He sat back on a bench in a stinky locker room, crammed with his co-dancers.  
  
Dancing was a better option than his regular job, because Merlin wasn’t sure he would be able to keep it together at the moment. It’s pity he could not live off it. It was way better than being a skivvy but not less tiring and not better paid.  
  
/  
  
The moment the show has started, Merlin forgot all about his heavy feelings. Adrenaline pumped in his veins; there was nothing but the music, the stage, the motion. When he overcame the fear of forgetting some part of the routine, he started to enjoy himself. Every of his move provocative, as it was designed to be by the nature of the strip tease dance itself, he felt smug at the thought of conjuring arousing fantasies in the heads of the audience.  
  
Dancing was fun. He liked the waves of cheer that came along the stripping. Part by part, Merlin discarded his clothes in sync with the other dancers and he didn’t feel shame anymore. If something, he felt a relief that he could get rid of the fabric that kept the heat of his body close. The air was hot and still and it did little to cool him while he kept heating up by constant movement.  
  
Merlin threw away his pants accompanied by a loud whistle. While Jay got his round of cheer doing the same, Merlin knelt down at the edge of stage to let the people look up close. He wasn’t anywhere near the hottest from their dance group, but he could sell himself. The crowd excitement prodded someone to reach out and run their hand over his clenched belly. Merlin smirked. When the guy’s eyes left his abdomen and travelled up to meet his eyes, Merlin winked at him before he got back up.  
  
He was barely at his feet, when he caught a stir in the crowd by his peripheral vision. As he turned, suddenly someone took hold of his wrist and tugged him down. Before he knew it Merlin lost his balance and was falling over a sour face of Arthur, pulled down by his inhumanly strong grip. His hip hit Arthur’s shoulder joint painfully and lacking any support he doubled over.  
  
When he got his bearings, Merlin tried to get down and braced his forearms against Arthur’s back to lift himself, but his captor held on fast and after a couple of futile tries he gave up.  
  
“Put me down!” He shouted in protest, but Arthur only shifted Merlin’s hips and thus gravity centre higher, effectively rendering him helpless. If he tried to straighten again, he might as well end up headfirst on a floor.  
  
Merlin listened to wolf whistles and some disagreeing grunts and yet it seemed that everybody thought it perfectly legitimate for Arthur to carry him right out of the stage. So he let him. It was not like he could return to the stage after this anyway.   


“What the hell are you thinking?” He snapped at Arthur, when the arrogant douchebag finally dropped him in the entrance hall. “You have behaviour of a caveman!”  
  
Fred cleared his throat, indirectly asking whether he should have Arthur kicked out. Merlin shook his head. If Arthur did all of this just to tell him something, then he wanted to hear it before he did some more.  
  
“Why have you come?”  
  
“Come back. I’ll pay you double price. Triple.” Really? Merlin shook his head and looked up skyward. As if everything was about money. You can’t buy a self-respect.  
  
“I-“ Merlin almost missed Arthur’s hoarse follow-up. “I swear to treat you with respect.” That sounded… better. “Please. Come back.” Arthur muttered. He looked abased, pleading like this.  
  
Merlin did not want to give value to the words Arthur said – he just dragged him out of the stage as if Merlin was his property, for God’s sake. Arthur’s look was filled with hopeful ‘Stay?’. And for a moment, Merlin faltered. The truth was that he wanted to come back, because he wanted to be with Arthur again. Arthur was like a kryptonite, thinking was harder when he was near. There were emotions involved and that was why it was such a bad idea to yield to his plea.  
  
“No.” He declined. “You’re talking about respect but I doubt you even know what that word means.”  
  
That left Arthur speechless.  
  
/  
  
It was over. This time for sure. He has chosen it, has said his final goodbye. No more of complicated relationship. The thought brought along a strange kind of relief, even though it was sadness that dominated Merlin’s heart.  
  
Merlin headed straight to the locker room, avoiding stares his naked body inevitably had to draw. Most of his “co-stars” had found their fun for the evening or had left already. Merlin made use of a boxy shower the club backgrounds offered. He peeled off his underwear, washing away already dried sweat. The water was lukewarm at best, but he relished the sensation of cleanness. It was as if he washed away his bad karma along the dirt.  
  
He headed out in his change of clothes, thinking about how late it was and whether he already missed the last bus. Probably did. He opened the backdoor of the Blue Panther and there he was again: Arthur.  
  
Merlin tried to pretend he hasn’t seen him and did all but one step, when Arthur’s voice stopped him.  
  
“Merlin.”  
  
Merlin couldn’t do this anymore. This should have been over, so why couldn’t Arthur just let him be? Something akin despair started to sprout in the back of Merlin’s soul. He recast it into irritation.  
  
“What now?” He snarled.  
  
“Just hear me out!” Arthur pleaded, syllables falling from his lips so fast they condensed the sentence into one word. And then… the miracle happened. Arthur apologized. Not for anything hypocritical. He did actually realize how dickish move he did, when he kidnapped Merlin out of stage.  
  
“First, I’d like to apologize to you. For interrupting you while you were on the stage.” Arthur hesitated for moment before looking into Merlin’s eyes. “I didn’t like it, the way others ogled and touched you while you were almost naked, but it’s your job and I should have had respect it.”  
  
“And second?” Merlin prodded, in reaction to Arthur’s use of word ‘first’.  
  
“I would be truly delighted, if you could leave behind my lack of sensibility and tactfulness and enjoy the rest of the week with me.” Merlin felt like he skipped into a different universe. Was Arthur really talking to him that way?  
  
“Wow.” Merlin said in fake impressed tone, but couldn’t help a small smile. Arthur knew how to play at someone’s ego if he wanted to. He could see the way Arthur straightened up and lines of his face reshaped into more confident. Merlin prepared to shift to a reverse gear if Arthur got unbearably cocky again. Nevertheless, Arthur didn’t threw his caution to the wind just yet.  
  
“Will you indulge me and will you come back?” He asked Merlin carefully.  
  
Merlin thought about it. Arthur had apologized. Properly this time. He could give him another chance, couldn’t he? See what else Arthur had in stock he just opened. It was not like he had better things to do anyway.  
  
“Fine.” He conceded eventually. He knew that Arthur’s head would grow big the moment he said it. To prevent him from becoming too smug, Merlin made sure Arthur understood he wasn’t needed, merely tolerated. And yet, instead of annoying him, Arthur’s wide grin was a welcomed sight.  
  
/  
  
Merlin was exhausted. That day was very long and very eventful. Merlin felt he deserved the right to leave the initiative to any kind of activities to Arthur this time. However, the most of all, he just wanted to sleep. Only if he just could. Arthur’s presence kept him alert. He almost started to regret his earlier decision. Arthur knew he overstepped and was hesitating to make any move. And with the tension between the two of them, he wouldn’t sleep either. A long time had passed while they listened to each other’s breathing, Arthur lying at his back, Merlin on his side, facing away. They set up a truce, but it did not have any clear shape, any restrictions but any permissions, either. Fragile. Neither knew what to say, so they stayed quiet.  
  
Arthur breathed out a loud sigh and then the mattress dipped, solid weight rolled against Merlin’s back and a strong arm wrapped over his arm and chest. Arthur buried his face into nape of Merlin’s neck. Merlin tensed for a moment and then relaxed into the body that quickly warmed up at the contact. It felt nice.  
  
“You hurt me.” Merlin offered as an explanation to everything.  
  
“Yes.” Arthur admitted.  
  
“Don’t do it again.” It wasn’t a plea or a demand. It was a fact. Either Arthur acts like it or he loses Merlin. It was his choice. For a while Arthur didn’t say anything.  
  
“You and David. I didn’t like it.” Arthur told him and it sounded like a whining of a petulant boy.  
  
“David has a fiancée, if it has escaped you.”  
  
“I also had a fiancée just a couple of days ago.”  
  
“But you already broke up with her when we’ve met.”  
  
He felt Arthur shrug with one shoulder.  
  
“Doesn’t mean you couldn’t tempt a man away.” Something like a spark flipped through Merlin’s stomach and his lips quirked up in an amused smile. Arthur’s words were touching.  
  
Merlin wasn’t sure what it was that Arthur has seen in him, because, objectively, he wasn’t anyhow impressive. He didn’t own tanned muscled body, his ears were outright ridiculous and he never got the knack of enticing speech. Not that he was prepared to fully forgive Arthur yet, but his embrace – this – felt like a place where he wanted to be. At the moment, anyway. With the hot puffs caressing the skin between his neck and shoulder, Merlin submerged into the land of dreams.  
  
/  
  
Merlin barely registered when Arthur slipped out of the bed. He was waken up by ringing of the doorbell to the clear light of midday and when he scuttled down to the door, tying a bathrobe around his body to hide more than his boxers did, he met with a delivery of three different meals, chocolate cake he went crazy about the first night and a message that he should get some rest before they went out in the evening.  
  
That sounded good. Merlin smiled to himself as he opened the polystyrene foam boxes. The aroma of spice wafted up and his stomach rumbled in response. Even as hungry as he was, there was no way he would eat three full meals. He picked up his phone.  
  
“Hiya. Wanna come for a lunch?”  
  
/  
  
Merlin was happily munching on a shrimp salad, while Gwaine kept turning his head to take in all the luxury of Morgana’s flat. His first reaction when he came through a door was a whistle.  
  
“Not bad, is it?” Merlin teased.  
  
“Are you joking?” Gwaine replied with a sarcastic mock-disbelief. Before he could say anything else, they were interrupted by Merlin’s phone.  
  
“Arthur. Hush.” Merlin pressed his index finger against his lips to silence Gwaine before he took the call. When Gwaine looked like he would say something anyway, Merlin simply put a hand over his mouth.  
  
“Hey.”  
  
“Good afternoon. Was the lunch all right?” Arthur was speaking way too formally, but a tone of his voice was so warm that Merlin didn’t have any doubts about how sincerely and close he felt about him. A soft giggle escaped Merlin’s mouth.  
  
“Why three meals, though? Have I looked so bony?”  
  
Arthur cleared his throat. “No, ‘f course not. I just didn’t know what you like, so...”  
  
Merlin chuckled. “I’m just teasing you.” He heard Arthur huff.  
  
“Okay. I’ll pick you at half past four, put on something nice.”  
  
“Will do.” Merlin smiled to himself.  
  
“Bye.”  
  
When Arthur hung up, Merlin turned back to Gwaine. His friend was giving him a look. Merlin schooled his face from silly smile into something more sober.  
  
“What?”  
  
Gwaine shook his head. “I hope you know what you’re doin’. ‘Cause you have it bad.”  
  
/  
  
Arthur took him for a supper in a small restaurant in Covent Garden. They chatted about what food Merlin liked and what he couldn’t even smell and about what Merlin’s mum used to cook when he was a kid. Arthur volunteered few memories from his childhood. They all included his sister and were quite funny, one way or the other.  
  
Afterward, they took a casual stroll through streets of a neighbourhood. It was strange how the purpose and the company changed the act. Only a couple of blocks away, in nights that belonged to last week but felt like from another lifetime, Merlin walked the streets to make living. Now he walked side by side with handsome millionaire, laughing at his jokes and discussing silly things like what is the weirdest thing they have seen in someone else’s home or if animals could talk, which would be the rudest. It was pleasant way to spend an evening, but from the way Arthur kept checking his watch, the supper wasn’t the main event of the day.  
  
When they came to Royal Opera House, Arthur straightened and grinned at him.  
  
“Here we are.”  
  
“What do you mean...?”  
  
“We’re going to premiere of Eugene Onegin.”  
  
“An opera?”  
  
“Yes, Merlin. An opera.”  
  
/  
  
With all the glamour he was surrounded by in the last few days, the opulent magnificence of the opera house did not overwhelmed Merlin as it once would have. That being true, it still did impress him. All red and gold, the auditorium hall was full of light under a great vaulted ceiling. It had a spirit of something extraordinary. Even the sounds seemed different.  
  
Arthur and Merlin were seated in a box nearest the stage, its six seats welcomed luxury in comparison with a crowded area below.  
  
“Craig, Mabel! How nice to see you. How are you?”  
  
“Good evening, Arthur.”  
  
Merlin turned to see an elderly couple to take seats next to them. He smiled as a way of greeting before he turned back towards the stage, training his eyes on the pit where the orchestra was seated. The sounds of musical instruments being tuned awakened a kind of nervous energy in him. An expectation.  
  
“Don’t lean forward so much. If you fall over, I’m not going to pick you up.”  
  
Merlin rolled his eyes but straightened in his seat.  
  
“I was just watchin’ the guys getting ready. Have you seen that huge trumpet?”  
  
“It’s called bombardon.”  
  
Merlin spluttered as he tried to supress a burst of laughter. When he calmed, he turned to Arthur again.  
  
“So why we’re here? Business mingling?” Merlin inquired.  
  
“Well, that too. But in first place we’re here because I love opera.” Only Arthur could be so casually smug. “I hope you won’t get bored.” Arthur finished with smile and Merlin tore his eyes away from him.  
  
“So, you said this is in Russian.”  
  
“It is.”  
  
“So how am I gonna know what they're singin'?”  
  
“You'll know. Believe me, you'll understand. And if you don’t, there are overtitles.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
Not long after that, a signal to take seats chimed and the lights in the auditorium went dark. At first, a music filled the air and then a curtain opened and they were drawn into another world.  
  
/  
  
Merlin wasn’t sure what people – namely Arthur – saw in opera. It was all ‘she falls in love, writes him a letter but he doesn’t want her...’. Maybe if Merlin was a teenage girl he would see it differently. After the First Act, he was about to suggest they could spend the time in a different way, but there were too many people everywhere to let him make Arthur see the appeal of it, so after the break, he was back sitting at his seat. And then the Second Act unfolded and Merlin could barely breathe when Lensky eventually challenged Onegin for duel. He was so captured by the story, it felt like waking up from a dream, when the second break lit the lights around him.  
  
This time Arthur chose to visit foyer to ‘stretch their legs’ as he put it. A short talk and a banknote to some usher and they both had a glass of wine in their hand without waiting in any queue. Arthur surely knew how to use money.  
  
“Cheers.” Merlin lifted his glass in a toast. Arthur clinked his own against Merlin’s.  
  
“How did-“ Arthur started to ask him, but was interrupted before he could finish the question.  
  
“Arthur!” Arthur turned to find a source of excited greeting as two fashionable young women came up to them. “Oh, how lovely to meet you here.” One pronounced with excessive sentimentality.  
  
“Hello.” The second, less theatrical of the duo, greeted them. Merin liked her more that instant.  
  
“Hi. Merlin.” Merlin slipped in his quiet reply, looking at her.  
  
“Where’s Mith?” The first continued.  
  
“We’re no longer together.” Arthur went for honesty.  
  
“Really? How come? You were such a perfect couple!”  
  
Arthur only smiled politely.  
  
“You should have told me! You know we’re still friends, don’t you?” She searched his heart. “I’ll be happy to keep you company. Next time you go to theatre alone just call me.”  
  
_‘That wasn’t exactly subtle.’_ Merlin thought while watching the blond woman to flirt with Arthur.  
  
“Well, thank you, Charlotte, but I’m not quite alone.” Arthur dead-panned, smartly rebuffing any of her efforts. Merlin fought to keep a smirk off of his face.  
  
“Now enough about you, Arthur.” Watching Merlin, the other woman, an elegant brunette with aura of mystery and peppering of freckles that made her look unique, said. Her voice held an attractive melody in it. “Tell me, Merlin. Where do handsome men like you hide all this time?” She asked playfully, her wink accompanied by a wide grin. Merlin liked her but not _that_ much.  
  
“I’m already taken.” He replied gently.  
  
“Gah! Are you sure I couldn’t change your mind?” Her eyebrows pulled up and her lips curled into cute little pout.  
  
“I’m sure.” Merlin smiled back. She gave up and let her face relax into a companionable half-smile.  
  
“Who’s the lucky one?”  
  
“The most dashing person I’ve ever met.” Merlin didn’t mean to say that, but it somehow let itself out of his mouth.  
  
After a moment, when Merlin purposefully did not look in Arthur’s direction, Arthur cleared his throat.  
  
“Ladies, it was a pleasure to meet you.”  
  
/  
  
From the long pause between his flattery and Arthur’s throat-clearing, Merlin had a vague feeling that it was Arthur’s turn to consider leaving halfway through the performance, but for different reasons than Merlin had. Starting to feel comfortable in his role, Merlin left it to Arthur to act or to suck it up, while he relaxed and enjoyed the evening.  
  
/  
  
Arthur exchanged greeting and brief how-are-yous with few more people. Some of them had to be quite influential, Merlin was sure.   


“Arthur, dear. How are you?” A man of unidentifiable age appeared by Arthur’s side.  
  
“I’m well, thank you for asking.” The man turned to Merlin with curious look.  
  
“Hi.” Merlin offered a genuine smile.  
  
"I don’t care if you are high or down, but the correct way of greeting at this time of a day would be ‘good evening’." He held his head tilted up just enough to make him look permanently condescending.  
  
“Err, I’m sorry. This is Merlin Morgan.” Arthur caught up, with his unwavering charm. He motioned towards the other man in an expressive gesture. “Royal Ballet choreographer, Frederick Payne.”  
  
“Nice to meet you.” Watching Merlin, the man replied formally and held out his hand.  
  
“Likewise.” Shaking it, Merlin answered mechanically, the unease making him strung up.  
  
“And how are you, Frederick? I heard your last piece was a great success.”  
  
“Oh, I cannot complain. By the way, my wife and I would love to invite you for a dinner this weekend.”  
  
“I am afraid that won’t be possible, I am very busy lately, but I’ll keep it in mind and let you know when I am available.”  
  
“That would be great. It was really nice to chat with you. If you’d excuse me now, gentlemen, there’s something I need to discuss with general director.” His look was glued to a group of another three people. He broke the stare to look back and he parted with them with a short nod before he walked away.  
  
“If he replaced the stick that’s up his ass with a dildo, it might do him some good.” Merlin observed.  
  
At that, Arthur’s wine went down the wrong way and he seized in a fit of cough. People started to turn, some alarmed, others just curious, looking for spectacle. Clearly aware of this, Arthur tried his best to rein in his instinctive body response, as soon as he could gritting through his teeth:  
  
“Merlin, you can’t-“ He tried a shallow inhale. “…just say things like that without warning!”  
  
/  
  
They sat in companionable silence as Elyan took them home. Merlin thought it totally unnecessary, given Covent Garden was pretty close to Marylebone where their flat was located, but it was late and he was kind of glad he did not need to travel by an underground after shuffling through the crowd that was in the theatre.  
  
“Did you like it?” Arthur asked at some point.  
  
Merlin thought about it for a while before he answered. The first part of the opera appeared ‘girlish’ to him at first, but then the story changed its tune and from romantic novel it turned to more serious themes to finally reveal the fatality of Onegin’s ill-considered choices. There was a ton of heavy feelings brought up by the story and Merlin would lie if he said it didn’t leave its imprint in him.  
  
“Yeah. Yeah, I did.” He turned to return Arthur’s look and share a smile.


	14. Arthur

Arthur was so ecstatic, so self-satisfied when he sat in his car again and the passenger door opened to accept Merlin. He drove them from the Blue Panther’s filthy parking lot to Morgana’s posh condo high on those feelings. Only when Arthur and Merlin finally crashed onto their bed, his expectations turned out to be a little too fantastic.  
  
For starters, Merlin looked tired to the bone. And despite Arthur’s apology and Merlin’s acceptance, the matters between the two of them weren’t fully resolved yet. In any case, Arthur could not jump him and let them forget their disagreements through sex, no matter what he planned or fantasized about. Besides, it was not his place to demand anything at this point. He would be ashamed of himself if he did. And lastly, he was also more tired himself than he had expected.  
  
Being tired didn’t mean he could let everything go, though. Instead of facing him, Merlin curled up on his side, literally turning his back on Arthur. That wasn’t fair. Maybe he just wanted to sleep, Arthur thought. Or maybe he was still upset and waiting for Arthur to say something, since Arthur could tell that even a half an hour later he still wasn’t asleep. Arthur didn’t know what to say. A couple of times he was already about to open his mouth but then thought better of it. How could he show he was sorry and that he cared? Like a bubble floating up, a memory of his first wife surfaced in his mind. Sophia always hugged him when she wanted to call truce. He had to risk it.  
  
Arthur propped up and moved over to fit behind Merlin. Tentatively, he sneaked his arm around Merlin’s torso as he nestled against him. For a moment, it looked like Merlin would protest. He went all rigid before slowly melted into Arthur’s embrace. That’s where Merlin belonged, Arthur thought. It was sassy and selfish, but Arthur felt like being those at the time.  
  
“You hurt me.” Merlin whispered.  
  
“Yes.” Arthur knew, but hearing it from Merlin made it somehow more real.  
  
“Don’t do it again.” Strangely enough, Arthur had also things he did not want Merlin to do ever again.  
  
“You and David. I didn’t like it.” He admonished the man in his arms.  
  
Merlin countered it, of course, thinking David couldn’t be interested in him. How could have Merlin been so blind? He should have known he could have anybody if he only tried. Arthur himself was a clear indication. It was very hard to get under his skin and Merlin managed it within minutes.  
  
/  
  
Arthur was many years past youthful laziness, his position whipped him into shape, incorporating sense of responsibility deep into his way of thinking. That was why he easily left for the work, letting Merlin to sleep in. He was also tired, but it did not matter – he had a job to do.  
  
It was Lancelot, who eventually brought a light into his day. His PA reminded him of theatre tickets Arthur had him buy two months ago. The performance was scheduled that night. Now he thought of it, Lance did tell him about it last week, but it had to slip Arthur’s mind. Now it poured energy into his veins and mind better than any amount of coffee could.  


Just as he was about to leave his office, Arthur had run into Agravaine.  
  
“Where are you going?” The man demanded. “Did he sign these?” He turned to Lancelot, pointing at a set of agreements that lay on the personal assistant’s table.  
  
“No, sir.” Lancelot answered dutifully.  
  
“Arthur, you can't disappear now. We're in this too deep.” Agravaine stormed Arthur.  
  
“Don't panic, uncle. Bayard isn't going anywhere. I'll be back here in the morning.” Arthur replied mildly, but his patience was wearing off. He looked back at Lance. “Give me the tickets.”  
  
“Here.” Lance handed him an envelope.  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
“Where are you going?” His uncle demanded, not letting Arthur weasel out of his duties that easily.  
  
“I have a date.” Arthur volunteered the information, while in the inside all he wanted was to snap at his uncle that it was none of his business.  
  
“With the rent boy?” Agravaine asked, outraged, laughing at him. He wanted Arthur to hear it, to admit to himself that he was throwing his work away just to date a rent boy. For him, Merlin was nothing more than a lowly prostitute and Arthur a love-struck fool. However, saying it out loud in their own company for anybody to hear? Agravaine went a little too far.  
  
“Be careful, uncle.” Arthur warned him, his mood dimmed by the hostility.  
  
/  
  
Every moment he spent with him, Merlin proved that he wasn’t like anyone Arthur ever met before. His childhood stories were crazy and he apparently loved his mum more than Arthur could ever imagine to be able to love someone. After a supper they walked through the streets to Royal Opera House and Arthur felt the way he did not since he and Morgana were early teen. Merlin brought up some ridiculous topics to discuss and Arthur was almost reluctant to arrive to their destination.  
  
“Here we are.” Arthur announced with pride, although he felt a fair share of nervousness.  
  
“What do you mean...?” Merlin didn’t get the hint.  
  
“We’re going to premiere of Eugene Onegin.” Arthur spared him further confusion.  
  
“An opera?”  
  
“Yes, Merlin. An opera.”  
  
/  
  
The opera was good – not the best, but there was nothing for the Royal Opera to be ashamed of. Arthur found himself more enthusiastic about the whole performance now that he had someone who has never seen opera before by his side.  
  
During the second break they met some of Mithian’s friends. Arthur knew that could happen and was prepared for it. What he wasn’t prepared for was that the one that went by Charlotte would be hitting on him. She tried to mask it as a friendly support but failed badly. It was quite awkward. And then, to his surprise, the other – Arthur could not remember her name. Was it Lucille? – started to flirt with Merlin. Unlike Charlotte, Lucille was unabashedly forward, but smart about it and for a second Arthur felt very uncomfortable with her attention focused on Merlin. Arthur did not consider himself conceited, but maybe he was envious a bit.  
  
Naturally, it did not affect his gay companion. He declined her favour, stating that he was taken by the most dashing person he’s ever met. If Arthur was feeling sided for whatever reason, this more than made up for it. Arthur was at the receiving end of flattering on daily basis. He could even say he got flattered multiple times a day, depending on an occasion. However, as it turned out, the only flatters he actually cared about were the ones from Merlin. He felt all hot, and wanted to tease Merlin about it, but he could not, because this was not how Mithian deserved to learn about him and Merlin. Therefore, Arthur managed to merely clear his throat and get them rid of the girls.  
  
Later on, Merlin managed to utter few incredibly brazen comments at expense of some self-important and would-like-to-be-dignified people, of which one caused Arthur to choke on his wine. Arthur could not decide whether he wanted to laugh or kill Merlin for nearly asphyxiating him.  
  
/  
  
By the third act, Merlin was clearly immersed in the opera. Arthur watched it, too, but his thoughts kept wandering off to thoughts of was how precious Merlin was and how Arthur wanted to have him in his arms again. Arthur found the evening was very enjoyable, but rather than the opera it was thanks to Merlin.  
  
Arthur barely restrained himself during the ride in car, forcing himself to relax. Once they entered the maisonette and the door clicked shut, though, Arthur’s feet took him to Merlin and he wrapped himself around him. For a moment they just stood like that.  
  
“I hope you’re not tired anymore, because I can’t go another night without having you naked and under me.” He murmured into his ear.  
  
Merlin laughed and pushed his thigh between Arthur’s legs.  
  
/  
  
“So what we’re gonna do?” Merlin asked, when they were half naked on a bed.  
  
“Uh. I really liked what we did last time.”  
  
“I thought you might.” Merlin dislodged himself from Arthur’s embrace and flipped over. Then he had Arthur pull down his underwear. That by itself should have been suspicious, but Arthur did not assign it any significance. He was way too distracted by hormonal haze. So it took him few seconds to process what he saw once Merlin’s silk boxers were down.  
  
“That’s- Is that a butt-plug?” Arthur considered the soft black silicone knob.  
  
“Ready for love.” Merlin quipped.  
  
Arthur begun to analyse those words only to halt at something else. He thought back and forth through the evening.  
  
“You had it all this time? Have you talked to a member of the House of Lords with a plug up your butt?!?”  
  
Merlin frowned. “Yeah. It seems so.” Then he shrugged unapologetically and grinned at him. “You mind?”  
  
Arthur shook his head, rolling his eyes. He took out a packet of preservatives.  
  
“You…” He cleared his throat. “You didn’t have to.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
“It makes me feel like you are my sex slave or something.” Arthur muttered.  
  
“Am I not?” Merlin feigned a shock.  
  
“All right, my slave, what do you want me to do to you?”  
  
/  
  
“What are you doing?” Arthur was resting on the bed covers with Merlin leaning on him. He felt something cool and pointy rub against the skin between his shoulder blades, almost like...  
  
“I’m writing.” Merlin confirmed his suspicions. Oh, really. Arthur should not be surprised anymore. Except, he always was. That was another thing Merlin was very good at.  
  
“And what have you written on me?” He decided to ignore the oddness of the situation.  
  
“Property of M.M.” Came an insouciant reply.  
  
“Now me.” Merlin dropped down on the sheets next to Arthur and passed on the ballpoint pen.  
  
Arthur pushed himself up and settled against Merlin’s back. For a short moment his hand hovered over the moonlight-pale skin. Then the tip connected with it and left a mark of blue ink.  
  
_‘You are crazy.’_ Arthur went for his sweeping handwriting but the skin shifted under the pen and he realized it would not work. He had to simplify. U R CRAZY. Slowly, he drew the curves and lines of each letter. It quite grasped what he thought of Merlin. Quite. Not altogether. ‘N’ HOT AS HELL.  
  
“What are you writing there? A novel?” Merlin pried.  
  
“Won’t tell.” He rebuffed his queries.  
  
Arthur appraised his creation. He probably would not make an outstanding tattoo designer, but other than that he was satisfied.  
  
They talked. And talked. Arthur really should have been asleep by now. Yet, somehow, a sleep seemed to be a faraway abstract concept. Merlin stayed propped on his elbows, while Arthur lay on his back next to him. It was comfortable.  
  
Eventually, hating to break the engaging conversation but having to nonetheless, Arthur excused himself and headed for a toilet. When he was done and washing his hands, he looked up at his mirror reflexion. He looked tired. And happy. They had to cut it and go to sleep. It was past 3 am for sure. As he looked at his naked torso, he remembered the writing he had on his back. _‘Property of M.M.’_ He wanted to see it.  
  
However, when he turned, he has found different words there. He smiled.  
  
_‘You are a great man.’_  


  


When he walked back, Merlin lifted his head that he rested on his forearms.  
  
“It’s late. Let’s sleep.”  
  
/  
  
The alarm woke him at what seemed to be an ungodly hour. Rationally, Arthur knew it was 6:30 am, but to his sleep deprived brain it translated as almost no sleep at all. Merlin’s body was resting against his and it felt so nice. Arthur grunted. Merlin stirred and sat up while Arthur was still trying to fully open his bleary eyes.  
  
“Sleep. I’ll turn it off.” He said.  
  
“I have to work.” Arthur protested groggily.  
  
“You look like shit. Why don’t you take a day off?”  
  
“Me, a day off?”  
  
“Yes. You.”  
  
“I do own the company.”  
  
“Exactly my point.”  
  
“I… fine. Give me my phone.” Arthur gave up. He wouldn’t be of much use, even if he managed to haul himself to his workplace. He dialled Lancelot, telling him he was staying home that day. As soon as he dropped the connection, he snuggled back to Merlin’s warmth and fell asleep again.  
  
/  
  
Arthur woke up with solid boner.  
  
“God, I’m glad you made me stay.” He said as he rubbed up against Merlin. Merlin – who was as masculine the next guy. But that was all right.  
  
“Don’t hump my leg, I’m sleeping.” The object of his efforts grumbled.  
  
“No, you’re not.” Arthur sneaked his hand to Merlin’s crotch.  
  
“Uhm.”  
  
“Like it?”  
  
“I do, but I really need to pee.”  
  
“Aah. Don’t take long.”  
  
Merlin clambered out of the bed and vanished in the bathroom. Arthur tried his best to stamp his impatience in the meanwhile. He felt much better than the first time he woke. Actually, he felt more rested than he had in a last week. He was also restless and horny and what was taking Merlin so long?  
  
When Merlin returned, he went full contact right away. His body was suddenly all over Arthur, his hands busy with making Arthur feel wonderful. Soon enough, Merlin climbed atop of him, burying Arthur’s length deep within.  
  
/  
  
Later, in the shower, Merlin all but manhandled him, shoving him against hard cold tiles of the shower stall wall.  
  
“Merlin?” Arthur, unsure what provoked such behaviour. Instead of reply, Merlin dropped to his knees, going down on him.  
  
“Merlin, we just finished one round.” Arthur pointed out, not sure he was meaning it as a complaint or just an observation. Merlin paused for a brief moment and looked up.  
  
“Yeah, I know. I’m crazy.” And before Arthur could reply, he added: “But I’m also hot as hell, so… I think you could let me have some extra fun.” He winked.  
  
/  
  
Arthur was thoroughly fucked. There wasn’t any more accurate description. He felt tired but light as a feather at the same time. It was as if all the stress he usually wore has dissolved into nothingness. He knew he should worry about the ease with which he ditched his work, but all that came to his mind was ‘we should do this more often’.  
  
Since they were hungry, the couple utilized some of the food supply from Merlin’s grocery foray and then decided to grab something of more substance and nutrition and went out. Arthur didn’t do ‘days off’ but he could still think off a picnic in a park. As soon as he brought the idea up, it was clear it made Merlin pleasantly surprised.  
  
Before long they were lying on a grass, chewing some kind of fast food. For an unhealthy meal, it was surprisingly delicious.  
  
“It’s good.” He observed around a mouthful.  
  
“Huh. Sure. Not fancy, still tasty.” Merlin assessed. After some time, when they worked on reducing their lunch, he spoke again. “Let’s play some game.”  
  
“What game?”  
  
“‘Never have I ever’.” Merlin suggested.  
  
“How do we play it?”  
  
“Well, since we don’t have any booze, we just say what have we never ever done?”  
  
“All right.”  
  
“Fine. I’ll start. Never have I ever… been to the Continent. Your turn.”  
  
Arthur composed himself, thinking of something to say.  
  
“Never have I ever eaten a fast food from a vendor before.”  
  
“Oh. Okay. Never have I ever eaten snails.”  
  
“You’re not missing much.” Arthur let his mind search his memory for things he wanted to do at some point of his – mostly – childhood, but never got to it. Other things than getting some treat from a street vendor. “Never have I ever been to an amusement park.”  
  
“What?!” Merlin exclaimed as he sat up straight to face him. “You tell me you have all this money and you’ve never even been to an amusement park? What the rich kids do, then?”  
  
“Merlin-“  
  
“We should fix that. Let’s go.”  
  
/  
  
True to his word, Merlin dragged him to Thorpe Park – a place full people and adrenaline spike inducing rides. Sure, it was Arthur’s childhood dream to have a ride at a roller-coaster, but it did not look as appealing up close.  
  
“You’re not scared, are you?” Merlin poked him.  
  
“No, of course not. Who do you take me for?” Arthur puffed his chest up. “I just hate the queues.”  
  
“No help to that. But since we’re already here…”  
  
“Right.” Arthur muttered and looked sideways, pretending to evaluate the how much longer it will take to get their turn, while secretly looking for an escape.  
  
Eventually, he sat down into the cart’s shaped plastic seat next to Merlin, trying to convince himself that it was something he wanted. When the cart unit started to move, his heart picked on speed, making him lightly nauseous. On the top of the first slope, he was half thrilled and half scared to death. He gripped the railing firmly. Then they tipped past the balance point and suddenly the cart dropped, speeding up so fast, it pushed Arthur firmly against the backrest of the seat.  
  
_‘This was the worst idea ever.’_ Arthur thought when they went through the first loop.  
  
“I can’t do this.” He said loudly, so that Merlin would hear him over the din of the amusement park, when they slowed somewhat down before they went into next set of turns and loops.  
  
“Just yell.” Merlin told him. “It helps. Do it.” And with that the cart went through another wild acceleration and Merlin let out a loud excited scream. For three seconds that felt like eternity, Arthur fought it, but then he just let go. For the first time since he was a baby, Arthur Pendragon screamed at the top of his lungs.  
  
It had to be the strangest thing ever, because it worked. When the carts slowed down at the final segment of the track, Arthur felt elated.  
  
“Want more?” Merlin asked him, his grin mirroring Arthur’s.  
  
“Hell, yes!”  
  
/  
  
During ride back to London, the adrenaline elevation wore off and left them subdued. They tried almost everything there was to try in the amusement park and while it didn’t feel tiring at the time, it had drained their energy quite effectively. Now Arthur lay in the bed, his skin still damp from a shower and waited for Merlin to finish his. It was a day of broadening horizons. And he intended for it to continue that way.


	15. Merlin

Merlin was right. Arthur was restless the whole ride back and when they entered the flat, Arthur all but wrapped himself around him. His arms bent over Merlin shoulders, his hair tickled Merlin’s ear. Merlin’s nose filled with Arthur’s undoubtedly expensive cologne. Finally able to touch, Arthur just bathed in their closeness.  
  
“I hope you’re not tired anymore, because I can’t go another night without having you naked and under me.” Arthur said it in a levelled voice, like if he was stating a matter-of-fact and still managed to sound like a petulant kid. Merlin laughed. He could hear a deep desire behind the words, though, so he took Arthur at mercy.  
  
/  
  
Arthur actually trembled, when they got naked enough. Merlin asked him what would like to do.  
  
“Uh. I really liked what we did last time.” Arthur replied. Merlin could tell.  
  
“I thought you might.” He said aloud. There was a little surprise he prepared for his benefactor.  
  
“That’s- Is that a butt-plug?” Arthur stammered after he pulled the last of Merlin’s clothing down.  
  
“Ready for love.” Merlin joked easily and watched Arthur get lost in thoughts for a moment. All of sudden, he stiffened and looked at Merlin in alarm.  
  
“You had it all this time? Have you talked to a member of the House of Lords with a plug up your butt?!?”  
  
Merlin thought about it. “Yeah. It seems so.” Then he shrugged, grinning at Arthur. “You mind?”  
  
Arthur made sure Merlin knew what he thought about such silly behaviour. After a while, though, he added more.  
  
“You…” He cleared his throat. “You didn’t have to.” He could not seem to meet Merlin’s eyes.  
  
“I know.” The customer was never Merlin’s owner and he made sure to keep it that way.  
  
“It makes me feel like you are my sex slave or something.” Arthur admitted, even though he made it sound like a complaint.  
  
“Am I not?” Merlin feigned a shock to keep the mood light. There was a thin line between being rented and being slaved. However, than thin line was all that really mattered.  
  
“All right, my slave, what do you want me to do to you?” Oh, Arthur would be a terrible Dom, but that was just fine with Merlin.  
  
/  
  
Arthur was a good man. Pratty, sure. A little bit condescending, overbearing and self-centred, but other than that he was good. He cared. And now Merlin knew it wasn’t just a figment of his imagination. Ninety-nine percent of Merlin’s customers did not care for his pleasure, let alone release. It was more of an achievement – a bonus – that made them feel more like an alpha-male, when they made him come with what they thought about as their pride. Otherwise, they did not give a shit. Of course, there were also few men who were just lonely and treated Merlin like a human being, but those were very scarce. Arthur was one of them. Unlike the others, though, he had a social position worth of envy – a family, friends and a lot of money. And yet, he did not seem content with his life. Merlin was something that filled that empty place.  
  
Merlin put down a butt-plug he had cleaned. He looked at Arthur, lying on his belly, his head resting on his forearms at the foot of the bed. Of course, Merlin could lay next to him, but why would he do that when Arthur’s back looked so inviting? Arthur merely gave out a contented sigh, when Merlin aligned his body with him. Merlin felt free. With Arthur he could do whatever he wanted to. Like write on his back with a ballpoint he snatched from the chest of drawers where he left the plug.  
  
“What are you doing?” The disapproving suspicion was almost tangible in Arthur’s voice.  
  
“I’m writing.” Merlin let the words through his goofy smile. Arthur did not ask why, albeit he wanted to know what Merlin had written on him. _‘You are a great man.’_ Merlin could not tell him. If he said it outright, it would come across as weird.  
  
“Property of M.M.” He came up with a tease instead.  
  
“Now me.” Arthur demanded. Merlin exchanged positions with him and handed him the pen during the process.  
  
Arthur’s weight pushed him into mattress. It felt nice, not oppressive. It took Arthur some time to write whatever he wanted to be on Merlin’s back.  
  
“What are you writing there? A novel?” Merlin smirked.  
  
“Won’t tell.” Arthur did not take the bite.  
  
The night was like one of those nights during summer holidays, when he and Will talked till the morning. Merlin already forgot what it was like to be carefree child with only thing to worry about being his mum’s scolding. Now he was reminded of those times.  
  
Merlin did not even realize how late it was until Arthur got up in need of a bathroom and Merlin’s consciousness started to slip away as he waited for him. When Arthur appeared in the door, he looked thoughtful. Then he said they should sleep and Merlin gladly obeyed.  
  
/  
  
There was some beeping. Merlin tried to ignore it, but it was persistent. Next to him, Arthur grunted. The beeping went on and on, so Merlin just sat up and searched for its source. Arthur was blinking at him from where he lay next to him, their legs still touching. He looked totally doped. Merlin couldn’t believe Arthur set his alarm to get up so early. Merlin turned it off and they had a short discussion about Arthur looking like shit and taking a day off, which ended with Arthur calling to whomever at his workplace and both falling back into the bed sheets.  
  
Next time Merlin woke up, Arthur was flush against his side, his penis solid and hot as it prodded Merlin’s thigh. That was... new.  
  
“God, I’m glad you made me stay.” Arthur hummed into his ear with a self-indulgent inflection.  
  
“Don’t hump my leg, I’m sleeping.” Merlin protested and closed his eyes again.  
  
“No, you’re not.” Arthur disagreed and his warm fingers curled around Merlin’s groin, stroking him. As morning awakenings went, this was not the worst one.  
  
“Uhm.” Merlin let out something between a comment and moan.  
  
“Like it?” Arthur queried, curious. He did, but...  
  
“I do, but I really need to pee.” Merlin cut it unceremoniously.  
  
“Aah.” Arthur sighed morosely and dutifully pulled his hand off. “Don’t take long.”  
  
Bossy as always. Merlin kind of liked it. Bossy, sinfully handsome and all his for the day. Merlin did his best to reduce his detour to minimal time.  
  
/  
  
When Merlin had sex with Arthur, it was his job. A job he undeniably enjoyed and was looking forward to. Or, at least it was that way – until he caught a glimpse of Arthur’s pen-tattoo message on his back. U R CRAZY ‘N’ HOT AS HELL.  
  
_‘He thinks I am crazy?’_ Merlin thought, a little disturbed by it and eyeing the second part. HOT AS HELL. ‘He thinks...’ Merlin’s heart started to beat a little faster as his lips turned up in amusement. Intellectually, he knew Arthur found him attractive but getting it confirmed by that sort of confession... a compliment, a declaration – made him smug. Merlin made a few decisive steps toward Arthur in the shower stall, planning to say something, although he was not sure what exactly that should be yet. The other man looked up, standing there in all his naked glory. And Merlin thought to himself he had found just the right kind of delivery of his own thoughts.  
  
Merlin shove Arthur a little harder against the wall than he intended and wavered for a split of a second but told himself he cannot doubt himself about every detail.  
  
Arthur was confused.  
  
“Merlin?” Merlin ignored him, dropping to his knees and focusing on Arthur’s sensitive parts.  
  
“Merlin, we just finished one round.” Arthur countered but his body apparently appreciated Merlin’s attention. Merlin looked up.  
  
“Yeah, I know. I’m crazy.” He shrugged, going for thoughtful. “But I’m also hot as hell, so…” A wide grin was tugging at his lips now, but he kept it at bay. “I think you could let me have some extra fun.” He winked and finally let the grin unfold.  
  
/  
  
Arthur looked more relaxed than ever before. He laughed a lot while they ate their breakfast and even suggested having a picnic at a park when they agreed the home food supplies could not cut it for a whole day.  
  
During the picnic Merlin found out Arthur has never been to any amusement park and decided to change that. It would be a great way how to spend a day off. ...And it was. At first, Arthur seemed a little freaked out from the roller-coaster, but it gave way to adrenaline-fuelled joy.  
  
When they got home, Merlin sat down to a light supper while Arthur opted for a long shower. Merlin followed, also taking few minutes to wash down the grime and sweat and prepare for every possible direction the night could take them.  
  
Merlin was so focused, thinking about possible ways to make Arthur lost in pleasure that it did not occur to him there may not be any sex at all. Nevertheless, when his eyes rested on Arthur, the man was asleep. He was sitting in the bed propped against its headboard, his eyes were closed and his breath soft even puffs. He looked so young, the gravitas of his bearing washed away by sleep. A swell of affection filled Merlin. His feet took him towards Arthur and he sat down next to him.  
  
Arthur’s lips were pale pink and soft and for an umpteenth time Merlin wondered what it would be like to touch them, to taste them. Then, he leant in and met them in a tender kiss.  
  
Merlin did not intend to wake him up, not really, he just wanted to try it out, but the contact startled Arthur into wakefulness. His eyelids fluttered open to reveal steel blue. The pupils contracted and focused on Merlin’s face. Merlin’s heart skipped a beat, his lips still hovering just half an inch away. What happened could not be undone. Not that Merlin would want to undo it. For a moment, a couple of Merlin’s heartbeats, they just stared at each other. Then Arthur inclined his head and parted his lips to press them together over Merlin’s.


	16. Arthur

Something rose Arthur from his slumber. A touch. His lips tingled. He opened his eyes. Merlin’s face was hovering over him, his breath ghosting over his lips. It was warm and smelled of menthol. A spike of excitement ran through Arthur. Looking back to Merlin’s eyes, they seemed deeper blue than he remembered them to be. Imploring. He pushed up, catching Merlin’s lips between his. The soft mass of his lower lip yielded and Arthur closed his eyes, rejoiced in it. The act was deeply satisfying, as if something that had been wrong finally clicked in its place. Kissing. It felt natural, like breathing.  
  
For a while, their lips moved slowly, a soft caress rather than a full-on kiss. Then, they shifted and Merlin’s skin touched his. It was cool from evaporated moisture. Their bodies slotted together with ease of practice. Their chests pushed against each other, expanding and deflating with every breath they took and let out. They deepened the kiss. Merlin tasted like a toothpaste. And Arthur knew there was nowhere he would rather be. He smiled and Merlin, after a moment of confusion, smiled back before coaxing Arthur into another kiss.  
  
Merlin’s friend was right – it was intimate, Arthur just never realized how much. If Merlin had suddenly changed his mind, saying in was a mistake, Arthur wouldn’t be able to go back.  


  


After some time of playful teasing and getting more and more passionate response in return, they were nothing but lightheaded, drunk on each other. Arthur got so immersed in the moment that he almost forgot about his initial plans. He wasn’t all that far from climax, when he finally did remember.  
  
When he suggested he would be on the receiving end of their copulation, he still felt somewhat embarrassed. It was irrational, stupid even. He felt like a teenager. Merlin had a grace to act like he did not notice anything at all, though.  
  
Arthur was in good hands. Literally. Merlin had experience and skill and kept the unpleasant sensations to minimum. However, if Arthur thought making out with a man unusual and penetrating one odd, this was a whole new category of strange.  
  
However, when it came to take preparation into an action, Merlin tried to dissuade him from going all the way through, suggesting they stay at manual stimulation for Arthur’s first time. Arthur told him to shut it up and do what he asked him to do. Maybe it was foolish but Arthur wanted it all, the full package. And he was used to get what he wanted. The truth was that it took all of Arthur’s concentration and freshly acquired skill to relax enough to make it happen, not mentioning it _was not_ pleasant at first – and yet, he still found it thrilling.  
  
The pleasure left Arthur feeling week and wobbly. Standard climax Arthur would label as “exhilarating, ecstatic, freeing”. This was “core-melting” in his books. A completely new thing. It really opened his eyes to what he was doing to Merlin these past couple of days and the knowledge was quite overwhelming like was the whole experience. As he understood it, the intensity of it came out of neglecting the usual stimulation spots in favour of slowly building the inner tense heat. He definitely wanted to learn more about it.  
  
Arthur felt sore but was convinced it was worth it. As soon as he returned from a bathroom, he collapsed next to Merlin. He kissed the life out of him with the last of his energy. After that he gave him a last kiss goodnight and rested his head with his lips touching Merlin’s shoulder as they both fell asleep.


	17. Merlin

It felt wonderful. The kiss. Something so simple and ordinary, like a kiss, and Merlin was thrilled by it. Following the first, more came. Their first kisses were tentative, cautiously light, as if it was just a dream that might dissolve the moment they took it for granted. They breathed each other’s air, their lips touching in slow dance of people who found something precious, something they wanted to enjoy without rush.  
  
Merlin, who had to support his own weight with his arms, found the position unsustainable and therefore after some time he lay down against Arthur, feeling the warmth radiating from his body. The contact broke the dreamworld fragility and the couple started to kiss in earnest. Soon they were breathy and aroused and exhilarated and if Merlin thought that it might not be absolutely perfect, it was the closest thing he could imagine.  
  
When Arthur suggested they change roles, Merlin was honestly surprised. This sheltered man was bolder than he thought.  
  
/  
  
Merlin woke up and rolled to his back. He turned his head to a side where Arthur had been sleeping to find it empty. He let out a sigh and rubbed at his mouth in attempt to wipe off a remnant of saliva from drooling into pillow. His lips stung in answer to such treatment. Of course, they were bruised – bruised from kissing someone whole night. Despite himself, Merlin felt giddy. He took a deep breath, stretched and got up from the bed.  
  
Wrapped in a guest bathrobe, he opened a door of the room and heard the tell-tale sounds of someone’s presence downstairs in the kitchen. Arthur. Merlin’s face was suddenly captured by a wide smile that refused to back down since.

  


As predicted, Arthur was sitting at the kitchen table and drank tea. He looked unusually contemplative as he stirred the contents of his cup.  
  
“Penny for your thoughts?” Merlin ambled toward his lover, still smiling as he went. Arthur turned to him.  
  
“I’ve been just thinkin’” He tilted his head to a side in thoughtful gesture. “‘bout the fact that this will be our last night together, and you'll finally be rid of me.” He met Merlin’s eyes expectantly.  
  
_‘Yeah.’_ Merlin thought to himself and an unpleasant feeling crept up his spine. His smile turned to rueful.  
  
“Well, you've been pretty tough to take.” He nodded fake-seriously.  
  
“I'd really like to see you again.” The lines of Arthur’s face smoothed out and there was something Merlin would describe as softness about his eyes.  
  
“You would?” Merlin asked in return, not wanting to anticipate and in spite of it hoping.  
  
“Yes.” Arthur confirmed and Merlin’s heart leapt to his throat. The moment lasted a little longer and then Arthur broke it by turning all business-like. “Yes, I would, so I’ve founded you an account and set a monthly deposit. You’ll have enough money for your rent and to get by. If you decide to pursue education, then I can arrange an interest-free loan for you. And I was also thinking about getting you a new address. Honestly, your current apartment is... lacking.”  
  
This was not how Merlin imagined Arthur to continue. He knew he should feel grateful and yet Arthur’s words felt like a punch into his gut. They held a great disappointment. Only yesterday they wouldn’t. A week ago, he would be jumping for joy. But that was before they _kissed_.  
  
“How thoughtful of you.” He forced himself to say and thought the insincerity, the sarcasm of what he said was self-evident.  
  
“You’re welcome.” Arthur replied easily, obviously self-satisfied.  
  
Merlin could not leave it that way. No misunderstandings. He did not want to be that man anymore. He showed Arthur his feelings, let the walls down. And he thought Arthur understood how much that meant, its value. Obviously, he was mistaken.  
  
“You know, you can just say it. Our apartment is awful. Yes, it is. But it’s ours. And it’s cheap enough that we can afford it with money we make.” Merlin made his stand. Arthur was surprised but remained calm.  
  
“You have another possibility now, though.” He pointed out.  
  
“To have a cosy nest where you can hide me from the rest of the world? No, I think I’ll pass.” Merlin offered his own point of view.  
  
“Well, for one thing, it would get you off the streets.” Arthur persisted.  
  
_‘Oh, really?’_ Can’t he see it?  
  
“That's just geography.”  
  
Arthur gave him a put-upon sigh.  
  
“…And you have not even asked me what _I_ want!” Merlin couldn’t resist an angry jibe that would finally get them to the point.  
  
“Merlin, what is it you want?” Arthur asked dutifully.  
  
“I- I don’t…” Merlin stammered, upset and unsure how to express his feelings on the subject. Every emotion in him was raw. Humiliation. Despair. Desire. _Humiliation._  
  
“Try.” Arthur ordered him tersely.  
  
Merlin took some time to think and took a breath.  
  
“When I was little,” He closed his eyes took a leap. “and the other kids were laughing at me, because I was small and thin as a stick, I imagined” Merlin opened his eyes and met Arthur’s. “– don’t laugh –“  
  
“I won’t. I promise.” Arthur ensured him.  
  
“I imagined a warrior in a shiny armour coming up to me and telling me that he needed me, that I didn’t know but I had magic, that I am the only one who could save him and his kingdom. And he would take me to his world that was full of magic.” Merlin paused. “But never in all the time... that I had this dream did the warrior say to me ‘Hey, boy, it was a good ride. I’ll put you into nice flat, give you some money and I’ll stop by when I need you again.’.”  
  
The silence that followed was grave. Arthur radiated an air of offense and hurt. His jaw was set tight, his look unfocused as he fought a fight within himself. His phone rang. For a moment, Merlin thought he would ignore it in favour of clearing the air between the two of them first, but Arthur took it.  
  
Merlin did not pay attention to the following conversation, too absorbed in his own mixed feelings. When Arthur finally got back to him, he told him he had to go. He said he heard everything but that was all he was capable of doing at the time. That was it.  
  
“I know. It's a really good offer for a boy like me.” Merlin tried for silver lining.  
  
“I've never treated you like a prostitute.” Arthur protested. They watched each other a second longer and then Arthur turned away.  
  
“You just did.” Merlin muttered under his breath as Arthur took his leave. He tipped his head back against a wall behind his back and closed his eyes. That was the moment when he realized he had to leave.


	18. Arthur

Arthur fell asleep with Merlin whispering ‘I love you’ into his hair. It was barely audible, rather it was something Arthur had guessed on from the way Merlin’s lips moved against his scalp, but it was there. However, he was too tired to think about it.  
  
When he woke up next morning, it was from a heavy sleep. It took a moment for his consciousness return to him, during which he squinted into the morning light. He moved and felt the heavy mass of Merlin’s body against his. He would not admit it aloud but he liked it. It did not occur to him as strange anymore. However, his own body was stiff from lying in one position for too long and he felt a need to stretch. He played with a thought of waking Merlin up and then brazen it out. Merlin would call him names and Arthur would kiss him and it wasn’t difficult to guess what would happen next. He was just about to do that when he remembered Merlin’s words. His breath stuttered. It filled him with both warmth and heavy feeling of responsibility. He also realized it meant that Merlin didn’t want to give up on what they had. With a start, Arthur found out he did not, either. And he was the only one who could do something about that. He decided to do it right then. With more precaution this time, he moved again, lifting Merlin’s arm to get out of the bed.  
  
Everything important to reform their short-term arrangement into a long-term one done, Arthur poured himself a cup of tea he made in between the calls, self-satisfaction settling in his chest. The only thing that remained was to let Merlin know. Soon enough, he heard Merlin descend the staircase. Arthur stirred his tea, thinking about the best way to bring the news.  
  
“Penny for your thoughts?” Arthur turned to see Merlin was in his usual morning attire – a white bathrobe. His face was bright, greeting him with a glowing smile. His hair was mussed from the sleep and his cheeks darkened with a hint of stubble.  
  
“I’ve been just thinkin’ ‘bout the fact that this will be our last night together, and you'll finally be rid of me.” Arthur teased jokingly. He met Merlin’s eyes expectantly. Merlin’s smile faltered for a split of second and then returned.  
  
“Well, you've been pretty tough to take.” He nodded, pretending to be serious. Arthur smiled back, then turned sober.  
  
“I'd really like to see you again.” He admitted, proposed.  
  
“You would?” Merlin asked carefully.  
  
“Yes.” Arthur confirmed, cementing his resolution. The few days he spent with Merlin were taxing but also full of excitement – and sex. All in all, Arthur wanted them to continue. And he was pretty sure that was what Merlin wanted, too. “Yes, I would,” Arthur repeated and introduced Merlin to the key points of his new proposition. He told him about an account and monthly deposit, opened a debate of Merlin’s future education and brought in an idea of new housing as well.  
  
“How thoughtful of you.” Arthur did not expect such condition-less acceptance but was flattered by it.  
  
“You’re welcome.” He replied without a second thought.  
  
Suddenly, Merlin flipped, his voice was controlled but barely so and his expression hard.  
  
“You know, you can just say it. Our apartment is awful. Yes, it is. But it’s ours. And it’s cheap enough that we can afford it with money we make.” It didn’t occur to Arthur that it might hurt Merlin’s pride when he hinted at his wish for Merlin to move to a better place.  
  
“You have another possibility now, though.” Arthur reasoned, trying not to be offensive anymore. Arthur could picture many places where he would enjoy having sex with Merlin but Merlin’s flat wasn’t one of them.  
  
“To have a cosy nest where you can hide me from the rest of the world? No, I think I’ll pass.” Merlin said bitterly, turning away. Why had Merlin shoot every of his sincere efforts down as something despicable?  
  
“Well, for one thing, it would get you off the streets.” Arthur tried further, his patience growing thin.  
  
“That's just geography.” Merlin brushed him off. Here they were again. Arthur let out an annoyed sigh. Merlin was sometimes so obtuse. A few minutes of silence passed between the two of them.  
  
“…And you have not even asked me what I want!” Merlin whined eventually.  
  
“Merlin, what is it you want?” Arthur asked, humouring him.  
  
“I- I don’t…” Merlin suddenly started babbling and Arthur was just so close from banging his head against the table.  
  
“Try.” Arthur encouraged.  
  
Merlin did not continue right away, he seemed to think his words trough instead.  
  
“When I was little,” His eyes closed, Merlin sank into his story. “and the other kids were laughing at me, because I was small and thin as a stick, I imagined” He opened his eyes and met Arthur’s. “– don’t laugh –“  
  
Arthur promised he would not. Merlin looked so insecure. Arthur hated himself a little for making him so, but he needed to know what it was that bothered Merlin so much.  
  
Merlin told him a story – a fairy tale, really – about a knight that would come and take him away into his world of magic, pleading his help to save that land. A story where Merlin mattered, where he was one of a kind. Magical.  
  
“But never in all the time... that I had this dream did the warrior say to me ‘Hey, boy, it was a good ride. I’ll put you into nice flat, give you some money and I’ll stop by when I need you again.’.”  
  
Looking at it through lens of Merlin’s fairy tale, it seemed that Arthur was an opportunist. However, they did not live in a fairy tale. And Merlin wasn’t magic incarnate, he was a sexual worker. Whom Arthur hired for a while. Arthur could not upturn his entire life just because he spent few crazy nights with a boy he met on a street. But that was exactly what Merlin was asking from him. Arthur didn’t know what to say.  
  
The ongoing silence was interrupted by a ringing phone. Arthur wondered what to say a moment longer, then gave up, the ringing resilient and preventing him from forming a coherent thought. He looked at the cell’s display and cursed inwardly. He picked the call up.  
  
“What is it, uncle? I’m a little busy right now.”  
  
“I just got off the phone with Henry Bayard. He wants to meet with you today.”  
  
“What about?”  
  
“He wouldn't say. Arthur, I think we got him. He’s fucked. We got him! Look, if he's really caving in, I want to get him to sign the transfer this afternoon.”  
  
“No, that won’t do. If he's really caving in, I don't want to wait 'til this afternoon. Have Bayard meet me downtown this morning. Goodbye.”  
  
He turned to Merlin. Arthur felt guilty but he did not have time to deal with Merlin then, but business was business and good timing was essential.  
  
“I have to go now, but I want you to understand... I heard everything you said. This is all I'm capable of right now.”  
  
“I know. It's a really good offer for a boy like me.” Merlin guilted him some more.  
  
“I've never treated you like a prostitute.” It made Arthur sad that Merlin didn’t feel it. He couldn’t quite bring himself to leave. After a while, though, he knew he had to go.


	19. Merlin

“Thanks for coming over.” Merlin greeted his friend as they picked a table outside of a cafeteria.  
  
“Jeez, you are my flatmate.” Gwaine said ‘flatmate’ and meant ‘best friend’ by it. That was something they didn’t have to say out loud. “The flat’s been empty without you. Not that I complain.” He winked at Merlin wickedly. Merlin rolled his eyes.  
  
“Too bad, I’ll be back tonight.”  
  
“Tonight?” Gwaine scoffed. “Do I count wrong or have you and your millionaire playboy had a squabble again?”  
  
“You count right.” Merlin said gravely, which led only to further dismay on the side of his friend.  
  
“So what happened?”  
  
“He said he want to see me again.”  
  
“And?”  
  
“And that he founded me an account, was thinking about getting me a new apartment.”  
  
“And the problem is?”  
  
“I don’t want to be a rent boy anymore.” Merlin thought that would be an issue for Gwaine, something he would not understand, but his friend got over it without a single comment.  
  
“You've fallen in love with him? Is that it?” He asked instead.  
  
“Gwaine!” Merlin flushed with indignation.  
  
“What? Did you kiss him? On the mouth?” His friend demanded.  
  
“Yeah, I did.” Merlin admitted reluctantly.  
  
“You kissed him on the mouth?!” Gwaine exclaimed, alarmed.  
  
“It was nice.” Merlin defended himself, his voice suddenly thin, uncertain, shy.  
  
“You fall in love with him _and_ you kiss him on the mouth. Did I not teach you anything?”  
  
“Look, I'm not stupid, okay? I'm- I'm not in love with him. I just- I like him.” Merlin stammered.  
  
“You _like_ him?” Gwaine repeated.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Oh, Merlin.” Gwaine shook his head. “You’re so fucked.”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
Gwaine stirred contents of his highball with a straw, thinking.  
  
“…Well, he's not a bum. He's a rich, classy guy.” Gwaine tried another angle.  
  
“Who's gonna break my heart, right?” Merlin concluded.  
  
“Maybe? Come on. You don't know that. Hey, he looked for you to ask you back, right?” Gwaine shoved Merlin into his shoulder to cheer him up. “…Maybe you guys could, like, um, you know, get a house together. Like, buy some diamonds and a horse. I don't know. Anyway, it could work. It happens.” He shrugged, holding his hands in ‘Who knows?’ gesture.  
  
Merlin rolled his eyes. Then he gave it a thought.  
  
“That’s a bullshit, Gwaine.” He shook his head. “When does it really happen? Who does it really work out for? Did it work out for Matt or Alex? No!”  
  
“Those were junkies and did it without a sheath.” His friend objected.  
  
“I just wanna know who it works out for. You give me one example of somebody that we know that it happened for.”  
  
“Name someone?”  
  
“Yeah, one person that it worked out for.” Merlin leant back into a seat.  
  
“You want me to give you a name or something.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Oh, God, he wants a name.” Gwaine knocked his fist against his forehead. “…Cinder-friggin'-rella.” A wide grin spread on Gwaine’s face, self-satisfaction glowing in his eyes.  
  
“That was a girl.” Merlin deadpanned, unfazed.  
  
“Hm… Right.” Gwaine frowned. “…Daphne?” He tried again.  
  
“Daphne?” Merlin had no idea who his friend is talking about.  
  
“What? Have you never seen ‘Some Like It Hot’?” Gwaine raised his eyebrows.  
  
Of course he has. Despite the heavy feeling in his chest, Merlin lips curled up.


	20. Arthur

Arthur and Bayard were meeting at Pendragon Hotels Headquarters – a blatant power play on their side.  
  
“Mr. Bayard, you said this morning you wished to speak to Mr. Pendragon. Mr. Pendragon is now listening.” Arthur listened to Agravaine summing up a point of their meeting while he watched Bayard’s worried look. The man held it together adorably well, given the circumstances.  
  
“I've reconsidered my position on your offer... on one condition. I'm not so concerned about me, but the people who are working for me.” Bayard squinted against the late morning light, sweating in his suit. His daughter, who never left his side, was as grim as Death, daring them to insult her father any further.  
  
“It's not a problem. They'll be taken care of.” Agravaine quickly assured them.  
  
_‘Is it necessary? To rebuild the hotel? Mr. Bayard seemed to care about it very much.’_  
  
“Well, then, gentlemen.” Agravaine continued. “If we could address ourselves to the contracts in front of you. If you look at-“  
  
Merlin had a point. He did not need to destroy another man’s dream. He could do better. A new plan started to form in Arthur’s mind.  
  
“Excuse me, uncle.” Arthur interrupted him. “Gentlemen,” he addressed everybody in the room except for Bayard. “I'd like to speak to Mr. Bayard alone. Thank you.” He waited for his team to stand up and leave the room.  
  
“All right, gentlemen, you heard him. Please wait outside.” Agravaine ushered Geoffrey, Gaius and Leon out.  
  
“You too, uncle.” Arthur cleared.  
  
“What do you mean?” His uncle, as a company lawyer took his presence as granted – necessary.  
  
“I mean I would like to speak to Mr. Bayard alone.” Arthur repeated his wish for Agravaine’s benefit.  
  
“And she gets to stay?” His uncle’s sharp look focused on Bayard’s daughter.  
  
“Please, please.” Arthur turned to both his uncle and Vivian. Bayard nodded to her and the young woman gracefully left the room with others, shooting suspicious looks over her shoulder as she went.  
  
“Thank you.” Arthur repeated and the door clicked shut, leaving him and the older man alone.  
  
First of all, Arthur went over to the window and adjusted the shutters so the light streaming in would not be so harsh.  
  
“Is that better?” He asked his guest.  
  
“It's all right.”  
  
“Would you like a cup of coffee?” Arthur barely ever poured himself coffee let alone someone else but he knew good manners.  
  
“Black.”  
  
“Mr. Bayard, my interests in your resort have changed.”  
  
“What is it you're after now, Mr. Pendragon?”  
  
“Well, I no longer wish to buy your resort and rebuilt it. But I don't want anyone else to, either. And it is still extremely vulnerable. So I find myself... in unfamiliar territory. I want help you.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Mr. Bayard, I think we can do something very special with your resort.”  
  
“What about our Culture Preservation grant?”  
  
“Ah, it wasn't refused. Just delayed. I... bluffed a little bit.”  
  
“You're very good at it.”  
  
“Well, thank you. I think we can leave the details up to the others.” Arthur was about to get up and open the door, when he heard Bayard’s hesitant words.  
  
“I find this hard to say without sounding condescending, but... I'm proud of you.”  
  
“Thank you.” Arthur felt bashful. He did not anticipate the older man’s words to get to him but they did. “I think we can let in the others now.” He said, when he pulled together. Bayard nodded.  
  
Arthur walked over to the door and opened it.  
  
“Let's continue the meeting.” He announced to the gathering behind it.  
  
“Come in, gentlemen, Vivian.” Bayard smiled, throwing the newcomers off by a change in his demeanor. “Sit down.”  
  
“Arthur, please, what was this all about?” Agravaine looked severely disturbed by the situation. Arthur just smiled.  
  
“It's all yours, uncle. Finish it up.” Arthur might have turned a little bit spiteful after Agravaine’s standoff with Merlin.  
  
He heard his uncle cross the room and shuffle the pages of the transfer agreement.  
  
“Hold it. Hold it. These aren't signed! Could someone please tell me what the hell is going on here?”  
  
Arthur turned away. On his way out he heard Bayard’s enthusiastic:  
  
“Mr. Pendragon and I are going to be partners. We are going to _renovate_.”


	21. Merlin

Merlin sat on a leather sofa in the living area, his belongings neatly packed in a suitcase he bought with money from Arthur. He was immersed in studies, the heavy Anatomy in his lap, when someone rang the doorbell.  
  
_‘Arthur.’_ was Merlin’s first thought. Then again, Arthur had the entrance code and he never “knocked”. So, it had to be someone else. Intrigued and still a bit absent-minded, Merlin put away the book and went to open the door. It was Arthur’s uncle.  
  
“Hello, Merlin. I’m looking for Arthur.”  
  
“He’s not home yet. I thought he was with you.”  
  
“He’s not. Would you mind if I come inside?” Agravaine asked and it wasn’t a question.  
  
_‘Hell, yes, you dickhead.’_ Merlin’s look lingered on a neighbour in a hallway behind Agravaine’s back.  
  
“No, of course not. Come in.” Merlin backed out of the door. What else could he say? Send him packing? No matter what Merlin thought about him, the man was still Arthur’s relative and co-worker. Plus, it might be dangerous considering his nasty temperament. Arthur should be here any moment now anyway.  
  
Agravaine didn’t waver and went straight to a cabinet set within Morgana’s movie collection. He pulled out a small cut crystal glass and helped himself to said glass of sherry from an expensive-looking bottle.  
  
“Want some?” He asked Merlin.  
  
“No. No, thank you.” Merlin wasn’t fooled by his politeness but it unnerved him. To stop himself from pacing, he sat down.  
  
With a shrug, the older man gulped his sherry down and poured himself one more, then lowered himself into the armchair across from Merlin.  
  
“You know, I’ve been thinking. What it is that made Arthur suddenly change? Why does he do things he wouldn’t do before? Things like making Bayard a partner instead of buying him. And the only explanation is you.”  
  
“Me?” Merlin asked quietly, reassuring he heard what he heard.  
  
“I think that Arthur fell for you – the way he did with Sophia. What a shame to lose one’s head so completely and in such a manner.”  
  
“That’s nonsense. Arthur’s not in love with me.” Merlin shook his head, bewildered, but Agravaine ignored him altogether and went on with his wild theories.  
  
“But then I thought there has to be more than that. Someone had to plant the ideas he’s having. Idealistic, reckless. Thinking he can do better than his father did, that he’s better than he really is. And do you know what I see? You. You’re just like that and now you infected Arthur with this bullshit. You imagine this is your home and Arthur’s your husband-“  
  
“I don’t!” Merlin exploded in protest, springing up from the sofa, but was silenced immediately.  
  
“You’ve just _told_ me ‘Arthur’s not _home_ yet’!” Agravaine followed his suit, standing so that he could yell at him from the same level and threw his own words at him. “This game of yours has to end.” He said, jabbing his index finger down.  
  
“This is not any game.” Agravaine had to be crazy. “Arthur is an actual decent person, when he wants to be. Unlike you.“ Merlin couldn’t resist a biting comment. Just couldn’t.  
  
“You. Are. A. Whore! How can you, of all people, lecture me about decency?” Agravaine spat at him. “Unless you already forgot what you are... If that’s the case, I shall remind you. How much for fucking you? Twenty quids? Thirty quids? Or now that you do millionaires, will you mark up?”  
  
The barrel-chested man was suddenly in his face, his warm brown eyes hard as rock, his presence spreading a thick smell of sherry, tobacco and spicy cologne. Merlin pulled away, not even trying to hide his disgust.  
  
“I’m not interested.”  
  
“You misunderstood. I don’t take ‘no’ as an answer.” When Merlin tried to avert his face, Agravaine grabbed at his chin, forcing Merlin to face him. “How much?” He asked again, punctuating every word as a separate sentence.  
  
“Get your hands off me!” Merlin shoved him hard. The older man grunted in response and then in a blink of an eye, his hand followed a half-circle to find Merlin’s cheek in a painful slap. It took Merlin out of balance and thus he wasn’t fast enough to prevent Agravaine from squeezing his neck.  
  
Merlin’s jaw hurt, his cheek burned. The lawyer’s manicured nails dug into his shin like claws. He knew this scenario and it never ended well for the one at his end. So he did what he learnt during his career of a rent boy and drove his knee sharp and hard into Agravaine’s crotch. The man instantly crumpled with pained shriek. Freed, Merlin took a lungful of air and staggered towards the small conference table, where he left his book. He would just take what was his and leave. A matter of few seconds. He can do that.  
  
“You bastard!” Agravaine’s angry bark sounded much closer to his back than Merlin felt comfortable with and then, before he could do anything, something bit into his shoulder and all his muscles clenched at once and Merlin fell face-down like a ragdoll.  
  
Pain from the fall reverberated through his body and Merlin had a fleeting thought about how hard a thick soft carpet can get when you fall at it from nearly two-meter height. His heart hammered in his ears and he felt mildly nauseous. He tried to get up. However, before he could achieve it, Agravaine subdued him again with his taser. Merlin’s muscles contorted once again, leaving him without control of his own body and his fear grew to terror.  
  
Agravaine used the moment when Merlin was weak like a new-born fawn to wring his arms behinds his back and tied them up with a tie. It had to be a tie – soft but very firm. Then, he finally let Merlin be. Sore and sorry as he was Merlin still appreciated the man was not it physical contact with him anymore.  
  
“I…” The man’s breathy voice came from above and stole Merlin’s thoughts. “…just wanted to make a point. But now…” A chill ran thought the rent boy’s veins. Would the control-freak kill him? Just to prove his point? Merlin prayed he would not. Was he going to rape him? Beat him up? That was another story. Things like that happened all the time. It was just a matter of time for Merlin to draw the short straw. He just hadn’t imagined it would happen like this. He always foolishly hoped he can prevent it, avoid it forever. – All these thoughts rushed through Merlin’s mind in a matter of seconds before Agravaine finished his sentence. “I’ll take my sweet time with you.”  
  
Merlin heard a tell-tale clinking of a belt clasp and tried not to vomit. Why had he thought it safe to let this man in? – He asked himself. Waves of hot and cold sweat shook their hands as the sherry breath washed over his cheek. Merlin cringed.  
  
“Don’t.” He pleaded. He really really, _really_ didn’t want to be either beaten or raped. Or both. He wasn’t even sure which one was worse. Merlin closed his eyes and grit his teeth.  
  
“Uncle, what are you doing?” Arthur. Thank God! Merlin let out a sob of relief at hearing Arthur’s alarmed voice.  
  
“Arthur,” Agravaine straightened. “good thing you are here. This scum has attacked me! He is not what you think him to be. If I haven’t had my taser, who knows what this madman would do to me.” Merlin let out a burst of derisive laughter. Half of his face was still buried in Morgana’s luxurious carpet that was now getting soaked with his tears.  
  
“And what’s the belt for?” Arthur demanded.  
  
“A preemptive measure. Perhaps superfluous, I admit, but he truly scared me, so I find it just.”  
  
In the meantime, Merlin rolled to his side and sat up.  
  
“Lawyers. Always can lie their way out.” He whispered in a shaky voice. Agravaine was glaring down at him.  
  
“Arthur, I swear he’s dangerous. I think we better call police before he can hurt anyone.” Arthur’s relative demanded.  
  
“If we call police, it will be to take you uncle, not him.” Arthur replied flatly, his eyes never leaving Merlin.  
  
“Arthur?” Agravaine did not understand. Did not want to believe.  
  
“Get out.” It was obvious they were a family in the way Arthur’s hard cold demeanor matched his uncle’s, when he returned his attention back to him.  
  
“Arthur, have you gone mad? Can’t you see it? He’s a low-life, a rent boy. A whore!” Merlin just managed to stand up when he saw Arthur execute a perfect cross punch. It sent Agravaine staggering backwards.  
  
“Ah!” Agravaine moaned as he braced himself against the pain. “You broke my nose!” He shot at Arthur who cursed under his breath as he shook the pain off his own wrist. Arthur left it without comment.  
  
“I sacrificed your family – _you_ – over twenty years and this is what I get for it? All I do, I do for you, Arthur! Because I love you.” Agravaine’s accent turned nasal as he tried to stop the blood that trickled down his nose.  
  
“All you love is power. _That’s_ all you love.” His nephew replied coldly. “And you got a very generous pay for your service at our company. You are free to leave it. Now go.”  
  
Agravaine’s look lingered on him for a moment longer, then he turned his angry stare to Merlin and back to Arthur. And then he finally – _finally_ – left.  
  
Merlin felt something in him loosen up, even though he was still pretty much on edge.  
  
“Are you alright?” The aggression drained from Arthur’s stance to leave only concern.  
  
“Not dead, apparently.” Merlin quipped. “I’d just use a little help with this.” He indicated the tie that still restrained his hands. His saviour made a quick work on it.  
  
When the last loop slipped from his wrist, Merlin stalked towards the sink to wash away his tears.  
  
“I don’t need anyone to throw punches for me.” He said as he turned the faucet on. Arthur waited for him to wash his face and turn it off again.  
  
“I know but I had to do this.” Steadfast, doubtless. When Merlin buried his face in a few lawyers of kitchen napkins to dry it, he asked: “Merlin?” And then he was there, mere inches from him and Merlin had no way to hide his red-rimmed eyes that were starting to fill with betraying tears again. Slowly, Arthur wrapped him in an embrace, warm and solid. Merlin didn’t even know he wanted it until he got it. After a heartbeat of hesitation and one shaky inhale, he gave in and held onto him like he would never let go.  
  
After a long moment, Arthur pulled away just enough to plant a soft kiss on Merlin’s cheek. Merlin winced at the sting of the yet not fully formed bruise and Arthur blanched.  
  
“Sorry! I’m sorry-“ He stammered. Merlin leant in and kissed him on his lips, effectively rendering him speechless. When they parted, both feeling much better, if their smiles were anything to go by, Merlin whispered: “Thank you.”  
  
“I’ll fetch you some ice.” Arthur’s look was tender.  
  
“That would be great.”  
  
Merlin pulled a chair from a dining table and sat down. Half of his joints still ached from how he jostled them by the fall, although the pain receded fast. In a minute, Arthur handed him an ice-pack wrapped in a towel and joined him at the table.  
“I’m sorry for what happened.” He said.  
  
“Well, it doesn’t happen every day that you uncover a sadistic side of your relatives.”  
  
“I guess it does not.”  
  
“I’ve heard what you did with Bayard.” Merlin changed the topic.  
  
“That was a business decision.” Arthur assured him.  
  
“It was good.” Merlin praised him nonetheless.  
  
“It felt good.” Arthur admitted.  
  
“This feels much better, too.” Merlin gestured at the bruised cheek. “So, I should get going.” The smile that played on Arthur’s face vanished.  
  
“I noticed you’re packed. Why leaving now?”  
  
“In one thing your uncle was right. I don’t belong here. I’m a rent boy. My clients don’t beat the bad guys for me. We took it too far. What we do here, that’s not in a description of my job.”  
  
“That was never the case with the two of us, so that’s not why you are leaving.” Arthur tried to make sense of it, unaware of a confused frown pulling his eyebrows together. Merlin looked down at the ice pack in his hands.  
  
“Look, you made me a really nice offer. And a month ago, no problem. I’d do everything to keep you as my benefactor. But now everything is different, and you've changed that.”  
  
“And you can't change back.” Arthur concluded.  
  
“I want more.” Merlin explained shyly.  
  
"I know about wanting more. The question is how much more?”  
  
“I want my fairy tale.”  
  
Arthur sighed heavily.  
  
“We’re not kids anymore.”  
  
“Don’t say.” Merlin chuckled and stood up to gather his belongings.  
  
“If you ever need anything – a textbook, a chocolate cake, whatever – give me a call.” Arthur accompanied him to a door.  
  
“I had a good time.”  
  
“Me, too. Do you want me to call you a cab?”  
  
“No, I’m fine.”  
  
Arthur opened the door for him. Then stopped him.  
  
“Stay. Stay the night with me. Not because I'm paying you but because you want to.” He pleaded.  
  
“I can't.” Merlin declined and Arthur blushed.  
  
“…I guess it’s goodbye then.” He said finally.  
  
“Goodbye, Arthur.” It took all of Merlin’s willpower to turn and leave and not kiss Arthur just one last time. If he did, he would stay. And then it would be too difficult to leave him again.  
  
/  
  
Merlin loved Arthur and he told him. That was a stupid thing to do, he’d admit. The arrogant brat clearly felt something for him as well. And Merlin thought he felt the same. Love. But whatever it was it wasn’t enough.  
  
And he wanted love. He wanted to feel cherished, not humoured.  
  
Merlin did not unpack his clothes from Arthur. Quite the opposite – he started to go through the rest of his things he gathered during his time in London, an idea slowly forming in his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With the holidays and all I have less time than I hoped for, so the rest of the story will be posted tomorrow ;) Sorry. Have a nice time with your families!


	22. Arthur

On his way from Pendragon Hotels’ headquarters, Arthur needed some air, some space to rethink his decision. Thus, instead of heading home, he started to a nearby park first.  
  
For the longest time, Arthur ached to be his father’s boy – a son his father would respect and be proud of. And this motive was shaping all his thinking. Even after his father’s death, he thought of himself as his legacy, bound to follow him. During last week he realized he was happier when he did not try to do so. This time it did not take a form of a rebellion – like the last time he tried to prove his own will when marrying Sophia – but rather it was an awakening, finally seeing light of his independence. Arthur wondered what took him so long to choose his own way instead of living his father’s idea of Arthur’s life. Why had he opposed his uncle only after meeting Merlin? Arthur knew why. He lost his confidence after his divorce with Sophia. It didn’t show, but deep down he knew it was true. He made mistakes, but that did not mean his father was universally right about everything. It was time to grow up. They say the first step is the most difficult. For Arthur, the first step was – strangely enough – accepting Merlin’s proposition the very first evening they met. From now own he won’t live to fulfill expectations.  
  
Maybe if this realization came sooner, Arthur’s mouth filled with bitterness, it would have saved his and Mithian’s relationship. Maybe that was what she was telling him all along, but he did not understand. He should to talk to her... He’ll call her after Merlin leaves, Arthur made his mind. That’s tomorrow. He has one last night with Merlin, one last morning. That wasn’t cheating. He and Mithian, they broke up. He was just clearing his head. And Merlin – he didn’t count, he was... Merlin was just a paid service, except... he was not. If Arthur was honest, the best he could do was to call him a temporal madness, a short-term affair, a fling. It was just something that wasn’t in Arthur’s powers to prevent, but that wasn’t substantial enough to sway him astray. He’ll call her.  
  
At peace with himself and focused again, Arthur aimed his steps towards Morgana’s flat.  
  
/  
  
When Arthur entered the flat, the strangest of sights was awaiting him – his uncle was bending over Merlin who, teeth clenched and eyes shut and paler than ever before, lay face-down on a carpet. The whole scene was highly disturbing. Arthur didn’t know what was going on, but from a sneer on Agravaine’s face in wasn’t that difficult to fathom.  
  
“Uncle, what are you doing?” Arthur laid a question in clear voice that resonated through the silence of confined space and heard a soft sob escape Merlin’s lips.  
  
“Arthur,” His uncle straightened and looked simultaneously relieved and concerned. “good thing you are here.” He said and Arthur noticed a belt in his hand. Then, as if he was the one cornered, he started to throw a dirt on Merlin, claiming Merlin, of all the people, has attacked him. “If I haven’t had my taser,” Arthur felt a chill run up his spine at the word, “who knows what this madman would do to me.”  
  
Arthur eyes flew down to Merlin’s tear-stricken face and watched him to let out a short gush of pained laughter. Merlin’s hands were secured behind his back. Arthur couldn’t believe Agravaine _tased_ him and then bound him. Him. Impassively, Arthur looked back at his uncle.  
  
“And what’s the belt for?” He asked calmly, keeping to a point.  
v “A preemptive measure.” His uncle replied aptly. “Perhaps superfluous, I admit, but he truly scared me, so I find it just.”  
  
Arthur tried his best to feel nothing as he forced his eyes to follow Agravaine instead of Merlin, who used the shift in power to roll over and sit.  
  
“Lawyers. Always can lie their way out.” Merlin’s words were candid, but his voice was weak and shaky. Agravaine’s attention shifted momentarily to glare at him. Arthur couldn’t ignore either, Merlin’s instability nor Agravaine’s glare. Arthur felt a wave of anger to his relative inadvertently raise in him.  
  
“Arthur, I swear he’s dangerous.” Agravaine pleaded, demanding a police involvement. Arthur looked down at Merlin, scared but brave. His cheek was bruised, his face a wet mess contorted with pent-up emotions. Merlin’s eyes shifted to meet his and held on – not guilty, not a victim, just waiting.  
  
“If we call police, it will be to take you uncle, not him.” Arthur decided, unable to take his eyes off of Merlin. His heart was aching.  
  
“Arthur?” Agravaine implored. Arthur turned to him eventually.  
  
“Get out.” He repeated in plain words. He was sure Agravaine understood him the first time around and just tried to negotiate some benefit of a doubt. Arthur wasn’t in mood for games. After all the lies he was forced to hear, there was no space for discussion left.  
  
“Arthur, have you gone mad?” Agravaine shook his head unbelievingly. “Can’t you see it?” He gesticulated wildly, pointing an accusative finger at Merlin. “He’s a low-life, a rent boy. A whore!” He yelled into Arthur’s face and that was just the last drop. Before he processed advisability of such action, Arthur punched the old liar straight into his face. The hit was forceful enough to throw Agravaine few wobbly steps back and light Arthur’s knuckles with fire.  
  
“Ah!” Agravaine cried out while Arthur was taking a deep breath, trying to shake the pain out of his wrist, cursing silently. Then came some more lies from his uncle and some more painful truths from Arthur before he and Merlin were alone again.  
  
/  
  
“Are you alright?” Arthur asked finally the question that plagued him from the moment he interrupted Agravaine by his arrival.  
  
“Not dead, apparently.” Merlin tried to smile. Arthur helped him with the firm knot Agravaine used to tie his hands. The tie was soft enough not to leave anything but shallow pressure marks on Merlin’s subtle wrists. Still, they proved what happened.  
  
First of all, Merlin went to sink to wash his face. Arthur had no doubt he felt ashamed of crying in front him. Arthur was raised to despise such behaviour as it was something that made a man look weak. Strangely though, he felt a desire to possess the same emotional openness as Merlin had. Tears came hard to Arthur as did heartfelt laughter. Many people had to view him as heartless for it.  
  
“I don’t need anyone to throw punches for me.” Merlin complained from his place at the sink. Arthur respected that, he wouldn’t want that either. At the same time Arthur felt responsibility for what transpired in this flat only few moments ago. Ultimately, Merlin had nothing to do with it, except that he was in a wrong time at a wrong place. Arthur was sure of that.  
  
Merlin closed the water and gathered a handful of kitchen napkins.  
  
“I know but I had to do this.” Arthur replied at last. Merlin hid in the towels, tension radiating from his posture. Drying took him a little too long and Arthur sensed Merlin wasn’t as composed as he pretended to be.  
  
Arthur hesitated for a moment, unsure what to do, but then he drew closer, laying a careful question.  
  
“Merlin?” Had he been another man, Arthur would back away, leaving a space for the other to master his emotions before they interacted further. However, Merlin wasn’t just another man. He was himself, a special case.  
  
Merlin quickly crushed the napkins into a ball, throwing them out and then turned around to face him. His eyes were dry but red, complemented by a vivid bruise blooming on his high cut cheek. For a second his face remained impassive, like cut from marble. Then, a ripple flew over it, quick shift of muscles that revealed the tension gathered behind. Against his will, his eyes started to well up again. Arthur did not hesitate any longer and closed the remaining distance, holding Merlin close. Merlin took a choked breath and squeezed Arthur like a little boy.  
  
It wasn’t a first time Arthur has seen Merlin cry but for the first time he did not raise a defensive wall of apathy, letting it affect him. Arthur let the terror and pity and guilt grow and wash through him, their magnitude irrational for a short moment until they ebbed away, leaving Arthur’s mind raw but purified.  
  
When Merlin exhausted his emotions and the embrace was comfortable rather than comforting, Arthur brought his lips to his cheek in a tender kiss. But instead of amazed huff, the action earned him a pained wince. Arthur paled. He completely forgot about Merlin’s injury. He hurried to apologize but Merlin silenced him with a kiss.  
  
“Thank you.” Merlin smiled a shy smile and Arthur felt the same smile at his lips.  
  
“I’ll fetch you some ice.” Arthur concluded after a moment.  
  
“That would be great.” And just like that they were two separate units again.  
  
When they sat down, Merlin gingerly holding an ice pack against his wounded cheek, Arthur apologized for what had befallen his friend.  
  
“Well, it doesn’t happen every day that you uncover a sadistic side of your relatives.” Merlin joked to lighten the mood.  
  
“I guess it does not.” Arthur replied stiffly.  
  
“I’ve heard what you did with Bayard.” Merlin brought up with an impish smile. Arthur felt a momentous flutter of pride but hastily put it out. He did not wish Merlin read more into it than what there really was.  
  
“That was a business decision.” He assured. He wasn’t lying.  
  
“It was good.” Merlin expressed his support.  
  
“It felt good.” Arthur said his thanks through admittance. They sat like that for a moment, smiling at each other in a rare moment of connection. Then Merlin’s look lost its intensity, as if he drew inside and hid behind a curtain of vagueness, then looked away.  
  
“This feels much better, too.” He put down the ice, abruptly sobering up. “So, I should get going.”  
  
Merlin’s words worked like a cold shower. For a second, Arthur let himself mourn the loss of the relaxed moment. Then, finally, he lay a question that lurked in his mind for a while:  
  
“I noticed you’re packed. Why leaving now?” Up this then, Arthur has done his best to ignore that little detail – a suitcase he was sure did not belong to his uncle. The only sensible explanation was that Merlin has packed it before Agravaine showed up.  
  
“In one thing your uncle was right. I don’t belong here. I’m a rent boy.” Merlin eyes flicked to the table before returning to Arthur. “My clients don’t beat the bad guys for me.” He stretched out his palms as if his thoughts were hidden there and by showing them to Arthur he made the words clearer. He shook his head slightly before he continued. “We took it too far. What we do here, that’s not in a description of my job.” Merlin went for substitute reasons. Why? What has changed that he could not stay one more night? Was he mad at him again?  
  
“That was never the case with the two of us, so that’s not why you are leaving.” Arthur stated, hoping that Merlin would reveal more of his thoughts.  
  
Merlin looked down at the ice pack in his hands, avoiding Arthur’s quizzical stare.  
  
“Look, you made me a really nice offer.” He started off slowly. “And a month ago, no problem.” Merlin shrugged. “I’d do everything to keep you as my benefactor. But now everything is different,” He looked back into Arthur’s eyes at last. “and you've changed that.”  
  
Arthur did not expect that. In retrospection, he should have. Merlin had a whole day to think it through.  
  
“And you can't change back.” Arthur realized.  
  
“I want more.” Merlin confirmed it.  
  
Arthur knew about wanting more. The question was how much more. He conveyed his thoughts to Merlin.  
  
“I want my fairy tale.” Merlin bit his lip.  
  
What else? Of course, he wanted a _fairy tale_. Impossible, nothing less.  
  
“We’re not kids anymore.” Arthur reminded.  
  
“Don’t say.” Merlin chuckled and stood up. Arthur was missing that soft laughter already.  
  
“If you ever need anything – a textbook, a chocolate cake, whatever – give me a call.” Arthur told him, he really did not know why. He just felt he ought to say something.  
  
Merlin has stopped by a door.  
  
“I had a good time.” He smiled shyly.  
  
“Me, too.” Arthur fumbled for something more to say. “Do you want me to call you a cab?”  
  
“No, I’m fine.” Merlin declined. Arthur knew he was stalling. He opened the door.  
  
Just one last night, why he had to leave?  
  
When Merlin made the first step to go through, Arthur suddenly stopped him.  
  
“Stay. Stay the night with me. Not because I'm paying you but because you want to.” He had to try, at least.  
  
“I can't.” Merlin looked tentative, unsure how to decline without hurting him. Embarrassment filled Arthur’s chest and heated his face.  
  
“…I guess it’s goodbye then.” He fumbled for the torn-up bits of his dignity.  
  
“Goodbye, Arthur.” Merlin told him and left.  
  
/  
  
For a moment, Arthur just stood on a spot, thinking what he could have said or done differently. However, his effort did not bring any fruits. Disgruntled, he turned and went to a fridge. Opening it, he took out one of chilled fruit-flavoured beers Merlin left there. He opened it and took a swig.  
  
With his hands occupied, Arthur sat down to think through what he would do with his suddenly empty day. His first thoughts flied to Mithian, his ex-fiancée. He told himself he would call her. There was no reason to put it away – Arthur took a phone with intention to call her – except for the turmoil in his heart. His thumb slowly retreated from above the call button. He can’t call her now. If he wanted to persuade her that he finally knew what he wanted, he had to be one hundred percent sure of it himself.  
  
_‘First things first.’_ He pulled up Merlin’s contact. It took him a couple of minutes of hesitation before he made his mind and pressed “delete”. He confirmed the action – his first step in moving on.  
  
Without either Merlin or Mithian, Arthur did not have any pastime handy. He thought about going back to work, since that was what he did most of the time, but that felt like a defeat. In the end, his stomach decided for him when it rumbled hungrily. On its cue, Arthur got up and went to a nearby restaurant to have a lunch. After he returned, he practiced playing guitar and, in the evening, he grabbed some snack from the home supply, putting on a movie. Unlike Merlin, he picked a Hitchcock. He liked old movies, even though he watched few and far apart. As was said, Arthur liked old movies but this time he could not shake off a feeling it has lacked something.  
  
Lying in a bed, Arthur’s mind lost its chains of conscious thinking and his thoughts chaotically rushed into several directions, suddenly heavy with emotions he locked out before. He went through them one by one, his mind supplying vague solutions and predicting possible scenarios. Underlying all of it was a persistent unsettled feeling. He missed the company and the warmth of another body beside his. He grabbed his phone from a nightstand. The bright light from it’s display bit into his eyes. It was nearly 1 am. He found Mithian’s number. No. She would be asleep and just get pissed if he woke her up. That’s not a good start.  
  
After brief hesitation, he started to pick through his call history. This number, three days ago, that had to be Merlin’s. He wanted to hear his voice again. And tell him what?  
  
“Dammit!” Arthur muttered and put the phone back to its place on a nightstand.  
  
For a couple of hours, he sought sleep, but it did not come. Figuring out he will not fall asleep on his own anytime soon, he hunted down Morgana’s blessedly well-supplied medical kit and for the first time in many years he used one of her sleeping pills.  
  
/  
  
Arthur woke up sleep-deprived and disoriented. Everything took him twice as long but eventually he set off to work. On his way there, he asked Lancelot to get a cleaning service to tidy up Morgana’s place. It was time to move back into his own flat. Arthur was fairly sure that Mithian was gone from it for days by then.  
  
His work was enriched by the new agreement between him and Bayard. It poured a new energy into his veins and for some time Arthur has forgotten his foul mood. Agravaine did not show up and Arthur let it be for the time being.  
  
In the afternoon, Arthur took his car and filled it with his clothes and other things that had been brought to his sister’s flat during last week. At last, he took his guitar back. He found its case and put it inside before slinging the last item over his shoulder. The flat felt empty. When he arrived to his own flat, currently deprived of majority of things Mithian put a claim on, it was even emptier.  
  
Arthur went to a pool to clear his head and stretch after a day full of office work. He swam more than usual, driving his body to exhaustion. This time he slept well.  
/  
Arthur woke up – alone. He had his tea – alone. He drove to his work and did his job, knowing that once he leaves an early dinner with a prominent client, he will return to a flat that was empty.  
  
There was a time, quite a long one, between Sophia and Mithian, when he did not care much for being single. He did not feel like his life was empty. His life was full of his father’s expectations and women he parted ways with after first or second date. And when he wasn’t dating, there was always his father, no matter how poor company he provided. However, this time once he left Pendragon Hotels’ offices Arthur was utterly alone. He still had a sister, sure, but just thinking he would call her made him cranky. Morgana thought he never grew up, not really, and would just make fun of him for not being able to be on his own for a while. Maybe she was right, but Arthur wasn’t made for living alone. It made him feel like he was wasting time whenever he wasn’t working, exercising or doing another sensible thing, for example sleeping. Everything else was just not necessary and therefore redundant. His rational part understood that was no life. And yet, he felt like he needed a reason to sit down for a meal instead of consuming it mindlessly over his e-mails. When there was someone to do it with, it did not feel pointless to go for a walk at familiar places or simply sit and drink some wine. The company was changing it all.  
  
Therefore, Arthur’s mind naturally tried to fill the gap. Arthur thought about getting a beer with Lancelot but felt selfish taking even more of the man’s time than he already did, even though he would not admit it out loud. Maybe he could try Leon.  
  
Leon was a safe bet. He and Arthur met at university and stuck together afterwards, when Arthur’s father gave in to his son’s plea and offered Leon a job. On his way home, sitting on the backseat of the company limousine, Arthur called him.  
  
“‘evening. What’s going on?”  
  
“I just thought we could go to get some beer, like in the old days…”  
  
“You mean tonight?”  
  
“That’s what I mean.”  
  
“Oh, man, I’m really sorry. Vici’s parents just came for a visit and I-“ Leon trailed off. “Should I tell them there’s an emergency at work?” He asked eventually with a hint of worry.  
  
“No. Have a nice evening with your wife and her parents. Unless you want me to pull you out.” Arthur joked good-naturedly.  
  
“I’d rather stay. Sorry again.”  
  
“It’s fine.”  
  
Well, scratch plan B. Plan C. Elyan? Even if Arthur went drinking with Leon or Elyan tonight, it wasn’t like they could do the same every evening. They weren’t students anymore. He had to learn to live on his own until he made up with Mithian or met someone else. With a notion of “someone else”, his throat constricted. An image of Merlin, dashing in his new suit and haircut, flew through his mind. That’s stupid. Such relationships don’t lead anywhere. Arthur watched the passing lights of the streets but did not see them. He saw Merlin, his blue eyes with rascally glint, an infectious smile, his laughter, his pain, his tears. Emotions rushed through him, trailing the thoughts like a tail its comet, inseparable. He let his memory remind him how it felt when they clung to each other, the way he smelt, his taste when they kissed. A deep yearning captured Arthur’s heart.  
  
To bring himself to different thoughts, he tried to picture equivalent memories about Mithian, a woman that used to be a wonderful girlfriend and his closest friend. They came easily enough but left only nostalgic melancholy of something long past. She did not possess Merlin’s peculiar sense of humour or his confident playfulness in a bed. She meant a lot to him in what felt like another life now. Merlin changed him and he couldn’t go back. What an irony.  
  
His phone vibrated in a breast pocket of his jacket. Morgana.  
  
“Brother dear, where’s my guitar?”  
  
“What about ‘thank you’ for picking your car up? And, as a matter of fact, the guitar’s mine, if you bothered to remember.”  
  
“You’re not gonna play it, are you? You never do.”  
  
“I am.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Yes. Buy a new one.”  
  
Arthur was about to end the call, when Morgana spoke again.  
  
“I heard you and Mithian broke up.”  
  
“Yes, we have. I used your flat for some time to give her space – thank you for that.”  
  
“Not that you asked if you may...” She said in a fake sweet voice.  
  
“But now I’m thinking about getting back together.” He confided.  
  
“And you think she’ll want you?” His sister sounded amused.  
  
“I can try.” Arthur shrugged mentally.  
  
“Then, why have you not tried before the break-up, pray tell?” Of course, that was like Morgana to say something like that.  
  
“Don’t be so vitriolic.” He dressed her down.  
  
“I am merely realistic.” She shot back. “Anyway, people say you had a different company at the opera…” Arthur got a strange feeling that if she was cat she would purr.  
  
“Which people say that?” He asked, disturbed that such kind of information found all the way to his sister.  
  
“That’s not important, is it?” He left him without answer. Arthur had enough of this conversation.  
  
“Goodbye.”  
  
“Au revoir.” It seemed Arthur’s frustration only lifted her mood some more.  
  
/  
  
At home, to prove his sister wrong, Arthur chased away his solitude by guitar play. When the light faded out and shadows draped their veils over the room, he stopped. For a moment, he wished he could return in time. Merlin would be standing in the door and say he didn’t know Arthur played guitar. He’d tell him he did not, not really, but Merlin would flatter him anyway. And then they would have sex, long and sensual and perfect.  
  
His chest aching with desire, Arthur found his phone. He told Merlin that he couldn’t do anything about the thing between them, he couldn’t change overnight who he was and who was Merlin and maybe he really couldn’t but he was going crazy being alone. He’ll try. To do something.  
  
He dialled the number he was certain was Merlin’s. The dialling tone went on but no one was picking it up.  
  
‘Merlin, pick up, you idiot!’ Even if he took it only to refuse him, Arthur needed to hear his voice. Then, there would be a chance, however miniscule, for Arthur to change his mind, to provoke him into talking some more. Merlin told him he loved him, didn’t he?  
  
Merlin thought he loved him. Love. Four letters that kept repeating everywhere. They got printed on cups, T-shirts, plant pots, tablecloth; every kitschy design had to own them. They were shaped into bracelets, formed from stones, cut into wood, inked into skin. Arthur was not sure whether he believed in love.  
  
He believed in attraction, convenience, loneliness. He believed in naive hope and regret of missed chances. There could be also things like sense of duty and responsibility that played their role. But love? Wasn’t that just a concept to embellish what one really felt?  
  
If there ever was something that could have been pure love, Arthur would bet on the feelings between parents and their children. However, his own feelings to his father were rather complicated. He thought he loved his mother but he didn’t know her. It was like loving a dream.  
  
So how would he know love if he saw it? If he felt it? People like Morgana would say “You will know when it comes.”, but hell, he didn’t.  
  
He tried to call Merlin’s number again.


	23. Merlin

Last two days were like walking through a dream world. Merlin was absent-minded most of the time. He packed all his belongings, said goodbye to all his friends. There was little he owned and he had no trouble to fit it into one duffle bag. The money he left Gwaine would cover two months of rent, giving his friend time to find a decent flatmate. He booked a ticket. Last night and he’ll be gone, closing one big episode of his life. Merlin lay on his mattress, thinking how much he grew up and grew old in the time he spent in London. When he comes home to his mum, he’ll be a different person than the one who left her. Not a small part of that change took place within the last few days.  
  
Looking up at a ceiling, he chased crawling lights and shadows cast by cars that were passing by. He listened to the night sounds of his neighbours, traffic from the street and the city beyond, thinking how quiet the maisonette was. A sound of his cell phone tore him out of his trance. He curled to his side to check the device. Arthur.  
  
Merlin’s heart picked up on a heartbeat rate. A part of him didn’t want anything more than pick up. The other – self-preserving part – held him back. He knew what would happen if he took the call. He prepared for the possibility of Arthur trying to get in touch again and he thought it through. Arthur would ask him to do things, maybe promise something in return; play on his feelings. Merlin didn’t know how long he would be able to play that game – days or mere seconds. Either way, in the end it would ruin Merlin’s plan to end his rent boy career and return to his mother’s home. He muted the ringing.  
  
That night he didn’t slept much, hunted by the name on the phone’s display that lit up repeatedly whenever his almost lover tried to connect with him. He tried his best not to dream about hair that smelt like summer and a breath that warmed his heart.


	24. Arthur

Arthur’s calls remained unanswered. By the midnight Arthur conceded that Merlin was not picking his calls for another reason than being currently occupied. Well, he could have lost his phone, but that was a little too improbable even for Merlin. The only option left was that he didn’t want to talk to him and that was why Arthur’s calls didn’t go through.  
  
He will need to do more than call if he wanted a chance then. Ambush? No. Something more like… like… making a fool of himself, a crazy romantic gesture. Oh, wonderful.  
  
Arthur’s mind grappled at redeeming ideas. It was only a matter of time before his eyes found the guitar. A song. That should do it.  
  
Arthur spent some time searching through internet for inspiration but wasn’t satisfied with anything. The search made him tired and frustrated. It was late, he would do better if he continued in the morning. Capitulating, he began to tidy up the few things that were out of place, lastly taking the guitar and putting it in its case. As he did so, he found some note sheets pushed into an internal pocket of the case. He took them out for review. The sheets belonged to his sister and consisted of various songs with chords written above staves. Arthur huffed and shook his head contemptuously at a romantic nature of those songs. Except… He stopped the shaking and stared at the note sheets in his hands. That was exactly what he needed.  
  
Arthur went through the songs and picked one. Then he looked it up to listen to it first. The prelude was nice. And then the high woman’s voice started to sing. That’s it. He would not pull that off. Or would he? He listened to the song again. It wasn’t _that_ difficult. He liked its melody and lyrics were easy to fit to his needs. So why not? It was not like he had something better up his sleeve.  
  
/  
  
Sitting on a speaker box, Arthur strummed the strings once and hummed to check the microphone function.  
  
“Merlin! Merlin, can you hear me?” His voice carried up the street, amplified by the speaker. Some passers-by stopped and turned to see what was going on. He looked up to Merlin’s window. He knew he was there even thought he could not see him. If he was to make a spectacle, then he made sure the person it was addressed to would see it or, in this case, hear it. “I want to tell you something...” Arthur lay his hands on the guitar, fingers of one hand seeking a familiar pattern of the initial chord, squeezing, a counterpressure of the strings a welcomed sensation. His heart hammering wildly, he felt a momentous nausea just before the pick touched the strings and their vibration created a first engaging tone.  
  
His eyes followed the chords he’s written down on a Post-it Note and which he stuck on his knee, but his fingers already knew what to play. When the prelude ended, he closed his eyes and started to sing.


	25. Merlin

Merlin had everything packed and rechecked three times but there was still a little over two hours before the bus would leave. Merlin didn’t fancy spending them at a bus stop. So he lay down and read a battered paperback he got from Gwaine to his birthday. This was maybe a fifth time he read it. His phone vibrated, the sound still muted from the previous night. Arthur, again. He felt a stab at his heart. They were over. The dream he dreamt has ended. He woke up and realized his fairy tale would never come true, not with Arthur. Merlin turned the call down. The only person who really loved him was his mum. …And Gwaine. But Gwaine was _Gwaine_.  
  
“Merlin! Merlin, do you hear me?” That was Arthur but Merlin turned the call down, didn’t he? He looked down at his phone and surely enough it was inactive. “There’s something I want to tell you.” Merlin raised his head and it finally got to him that the voice came through the opened window, loud and clear. He stalked to the window, peeking out.  
  
He found him immediately. Arthur was sitting at some box with a guitar in his lap. Merlin felt like he completely forgot how gorgeous the man was. Merlin hid behind the window edge, unsure whether he wanted to be in a centre of such openly displayed attention. He listened though, waiting for the silence to be broken again.  
  
A sound of guitar filled the space. Even before the first word joined the melody, Merlin recognized the song. Confused and disbelieving, he abandoned his hiding place and looked down from the window. Arthur’s head was bent forward but when he started to sing, his voice, amplified by the speaker, carried up to Merlin’s window unhindered.  
  
“You're a song written by the hands of God. Don't get me wrong, ‘cause this might sound to you a bit odd, but you own the place where all my thoughts go hiding and right under your clothes is where I find them.”  
  
The melody changed into refrain.  
  
“Underneath your clothes, there's an endless story, there's the man I chose, there's my territory and all the things I deserve for being such a good boy, honey.”  
  
Merlin huffed. Of course, Arthur would pick this song. At first, Merlin was baffled why he would, seeing it was romantic and sentimental, but then he understood. Self-righteous braggart!  
  
“Because of you, I remembered that I can smile, because of you I don’t want to live in a lie. When the press is gone, when the fight is over, we will still belong to each other.” Arthur continued and Merlin couldn’t keep back a smirk at hearing the personalized lyrics. Arthur repeated the refrain, thereby stating he chose Merlin whom he deserved for being good.  
  
_‘…there's the man I chose…’_  
  
Merlin’s heart skipped a beat as it all sunk in. Did Arthur choose him?  
  
When Arthur said they won’t be more then sharing a bed, it hurt. It hurt a lot, but Merlin understood. From all the people Arthur could have, why would he choose a mediocre rent boy? …And now he was here, basically singing serenades under Merlin’s windows.  
  
_‘A good boy, indeed.’_ Amused smile embellished his lips and his chest expanded with hope.  
  
Sending one last glance to the figure at the street, Merlin left his place at the window, storming through the flat, he ran down the stairs, taking four or five at once.  
  
“…such a good boy…” Arthur raised his head and their eyes met.


	26. Arthur

Through the song, Arthur slowly realized how much he meant the words he was trying to deliver. He put his company into jeopardy just to _try_ to win Merlin over. He was in head over heels. Morgana was right, he could have had Mithian but he didn’t want her even when they were happy together. Not like he wanted Merlin.  
  
Arthur just finished the last repetition of the refrain he intended to sing, when Merlin miraculously appeared in the doorway. For a moment, they just looked at each other.  
  
Arthur put his guitar away and stood up, waiting. When Merlin finally pelt off the door frame and came to stand closer, he asked him:  
  
“Merlin, my magical Merlin, would you save my world from being dull? I’d be bored to death without you.” Without microphone transforming his voice, it sounded more personal, private, filled with hope that he was sure was plain to see on his face as well.  
  
“But I’m a rent boy.” Merlin gulped heavily. A quick smile showed on Arthur’s lips.  
  
“Nobody’s perfect.” He educated and Merlin blinked, staring at him with a strange expression on his face.  
  
“Then, yes.” Honesty shone rom his eyes. “Somebody’s got to protect the poor people from your horrible singing.” Merlin grinned at him and Arthur rolled his eyes.  
  
“Oh, shut up!” He chided as he attempted to scowl but found it difficult to fight a grin that was tugging at his lips.  
  
“Make me.” Merlin challenged cheekily. And so he did, hiding his smile against the other’s insolent lips.


	27. Merlin

Two days and a lot of sex later, Merlin had finally found himself on his mother’s doorstep. Nervousness that coursed through his blood made his breath come faster and his palms sweat as he waited for the door to open. When it did open and he saw the familiar features of his mother filled with happiness at seeing her son, he completely forgot about the way he felt just a second ago, rushing forward to embrace her with elation lifting his heart.  
  
“Hi, mum.” His arms refused to let go just yet, it’s been so long since his last visit.  
  
“Hello, Merlin.” She replied and hugged him back tightly before suggesting: “Shall we have a cup of tea?”  
  
“Yes, I’d love that.” He finally let go.  
  
They sat down at the table Merlin knew so well, his mother fetching delicate ceramic cups she used for special occasions and poured them Merlin’s favourite tea. The all too familiar surroundings and a scent of the tea were calming. At first, they talked about his journey and how she had been. Then the conversation inevitably shifted to his personal life and a reason behind his late arrival.  
  
“I’ve found someone.” And his face had to betray more than he would like, because she smiled in that knowing way of hers. “I think it’s serious.”  
  
“Oh, that’s great. I’m so happy for you.” She looked him up and down curiously. “What is his name?”  
  
Merlin looked down at the brown liquid in his cup and pictured Arthur’s handsome face. He felt his cheeks flushing.  
  
“Arthur.” He replied with a love-struck smile, giving up any pretense. Then he remembered what made him fidget all the way since leaving London. His expression turned serious.  
  
“Mum, there’s something else I have to tell you.” He knew he had to. He didn’t want to risk she would learn it from newspapers. He hoped it would never come to that but he couldn’t be sure now that he was officially dating Arthur Pendragon. He never felt so nervous in his life, not even when he came out with his preference for boys. Abandoning the pretty cup to clutch his hands nervously atop his thighs, he met her eyes for a brief moment before fixing his look at a tablecloth. He told her. He told her what he did in London, condensing the story he told Arthur the very first night. And then he told her how he met Arthur. He wished she could get to know him first, but he knew what her next question would be, so he answered it right away.  
  
“Are you mad?” He asked eventually, when he finished and there was nothing but silence to answer him. He dared a glance at his mother’s face. She looked torn between several emotions.  
  
“A bit.” She admitted in a clipped tone. His heart cracked. He felt ashamed for letting the one most important person in his life down. “But I still love you.” She smiled ruefully. “And I am mad at myself,” she continued, blinking and wiping at her suddenly teary eyes. “for making you think that you can’t disappoint me.”  
  
Merlin felt tears prick at his own eyes at hearing that.  
  
“Mum.” He bit his lip. “I’m so sorry.” He never doubted her love. He just did not want to hurt her.  
  
She sniffed and dried her eyes with a napkin, pulling herself together.  
  
“Me, too.” She replied. “Does he treat you well?” She asked after a moment of shared silence.  
  
Merlin nodded, unsure whether his vocal cords would not fail him.  
  
“Then make sure he never forgets to do so.”  
  
“Yes, mum.” He dared a whisper, cracking a small smile.


	28. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking with this story all the way through. Sorry (well, not really ;D) for the cheesy ending but I guess it was to be expected ;)  
> Writing is a process of learning, so pretty please comment and let me know what have you liked and what not so much, so that I can learn and become better. Thank you.
> 
> And one last time, happy holidays!!!
> 
> Finally, here we go - the epilogue. Enjoy :)

_///Arthur///_  
  
Arthur ended a call and put his phone down. He looked at his boyfriend. Merlin was lying on their bed clothesless except for thick woolen socks and was reading a book. Arthur loved that view. He loved how comfortable they grew around each other. He loved how Merlin let all his guard down while lost in whichever world the story had taken him to, his emotions playing on his face in diminutive shifts. Arthur walked over to the bed and flopped down next to Merlin, using his bare thighs as a recliner. Noting the way his lips twitched into small smile instantly, he watched as Merlin marked a page he was reading and put the book away. Their eyes found each other for a moment, before Arthur picked up his game of airy unconcern.  
  
“What did she say?” Merlin queried. Arthur ran his fingers over Merlin’s skin, pretending it was an unconscious action, before he spoke.  
  
“We’re invited to her birthday party next Saturday.” He said negligently and under half-closed lids observed Merlin’s face lighting up with a happy smile, his own chest warming at the sight.  
  
  
_///Merlin///_  
  
Merlin exulted at the news. Arthur always pretended he didn’t care much for his sister but Merlin knew better. The strong connection was there, just hidden under piles and piles of sibling rivalry. That was just one of many facets of Arthur he did reveal since Arthur let him in. He looked at those hooded eyes and sweet lips that kept their secrets all too well, sometimes unaware of doing so.  
  
And then there was her family. A warm feeling filled his chest at the thought. Whenever they came to visit Morgana – and they did so quite often – Arthur, being still a child at his heart, would spend most of the visit playing with his nephews, making up crazy stuff and undignified noises and laughing all the time. While Merlin would have a few drinks and a nice chat with Morgana and her husband. And Merlin loved Arthur’s sister, too. Sarcastic and witty and always – to Arthur’s frequent annoyance – a great sport in teasing their beloved blonde.  
  
He still remembered their first visit, how strange and awkward it felt, knowing all the things that happened in Morgana’s apartment the week Arthur and Merlin met. However now, with the kids on scene, it wasn’t the same place anymore. The expensive upholstery of the lounge suite was draped with easy-cleaning overlay and the guest room has been transformed into children bedroom. The flat also wasn’t as pristine as it once was. Things changed, Merlin thought somewhat nostalgically, – in their case for the better.  
  
Pendragon Hotels were not ruined by their affair, even though there _were_ consequences. Bayard wasn’t thrilled when he found out but both he and his daughter turned out to be the most supportive. Mostly because it was him who Arthur dated, he was sure. Anyhow, they fought for their case and they strove to be happy together. So far, Merlin knew he wouldn’t change his pratty, arrogant and on a rare occasion completely selfless Arthur for anybody else on the world. The only other thing that made Merlin’s head and heart ache sometimes, he thought as he watched Arthur’s look lazily rove around, the man an embodiment of provocative nonchalance, was a fact that he took a chance for children-blessed family away from him. Maybe not absolutely, but still it never could be the same.  
  
  
_///Arthur///_  
  
“Merlin, I know what you are thinking about. Again.” Arthur opened his eyes fully to glare. It was something that was hanging in the air for two weeks now. A vexed topic: children. Merlin was worried about Arthur not being fully aware what he was missing on when being in a same sex relationship, while he – being bisexual – could have had “a classic family”. And he usually started thinking about it whenever his mind got to Arthur’s nephews. At those times, his expression turned crestfallen, just as it had now.  
  
Merlin looked up into his eyes, looking guilty.  
  
“I’m sorry. You just love kids and you’d be an adorable-“  
  
“Uncle.” Arthur interrupted him, filling his own word in. “Just because I love my nephews it doesn’t mean I have to have children of my own.” He sat up, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. And it was Merlin’s concern for him that made him feel that way. He looked up again, holding the honest blue eyes with his own. He sighed, forcing his annoyance away. “Unless you noticed, I am really, really, _really_ happy with you.” He let his lips twitch in a soft smile before he lowered himself down onto Merlin until their faces were mere inches away. Merlin said nothing, his eyes still somewhat uncertain as they bored into Arthur. Has he never told him? “…I love you, you idiot.” He whispered before their smiling lips met in a kiss that was a promise and a portent of things to come.


	29. Bonus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 100 kudos!!! <3
> 
> Thank you all for your support. Whenever my work gets kudos I know the time I've spent writing was worth it. And when someone leaves comment it makes me feel like I just won a first prize. To show I appreciate it and take your advice, here's a little bonus with Merlin and Gwaine for you ;)
> 
> Thank you!

“Don’t worry, Merlin. I’ve done a plenty of riding in my life.”  
  
“This is a horse riding, Gwaine.” Merlin pointed out.  
  
Gwaine merely grinned. His friend was either a natural talent or spent more time in countryside in his childhood than Merlin did, because he took off rather easily.  
  
“Where’s the princess?” asked the long-haired brunette, when they rode side by side in a slow walk again, following a path through an alley of linden trees.  
  
“Don’t call him that!” Merlin flared up.  
  
“Ever since you got together, you became such a prude.” the other complained.  
  
“I’m not a prude! I’m just...” he trailed off.  
  
“You just really care about him, don’t you?” his friend turned to look at him.  
  
“You know I do.” Merlin’s answer was bashful.  
  
“He’s really nice, you know?” Gwaine mused.  
  
“What?” The ex-rent boy looked up at him in surprise.  
  
“It’s just I didn’t expect he would be so human.”  
  
Merlin smiled at the rare admission.  
  
“He has his moments.”  
  
What Merlin has been particularly proud of was Arthur giving up a large portion of his own salary along with some company funds to redistribute the money into salaries of the lowest paid employees of his, so they wouldn’t have to worry where to get enough money for their rent anymore.  
  
“How’s the medical course going?” Gwaine changed the topic, when they left a shade of the trees and rode along a bank of a pond.  
  
“It’s tough but I’m not giving up.” the nurse-to-be grinned.  
  
“Nobody said it’ll be easy.”  
  
“I know.” he nodded. There was a short pause, after which Merlin asked: “So, Percy?”, inquiring about Gwaine’s new flatmate.  
  
“Well, he’s not you – obviously – but I can’t complain otherwise. Thanks for introducing us, by the way.”  
  
“No problem.”  
  
Just then, they heard a clatter of hooves approaching them and turned in their saddles to see Arthur hasting to join them. The man in question slowed down a send them a smile as a way of greeting.  
  
“I got held up. Have I missed something?”


End file.
